Of Things Broken
by Loopylou
Summary: Set after Personal. '"Callen. I need an ambulance at Deeks' apartment." Her throat closed over the words. They hurt when she forced them out. "I don't know what's going on, but it looks like he tried to kill himself." '
1. Chapter 1

Author's note-

This is something that popped into my head after watching Personel- it has mild spoilers for the episode. Will contain some graphic scenes, so please don't read on if that will bother you.

As usual, all characters belong to their owners. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

Lou

Of Things Broken

Chapter One

Twilight gathered at the edges of the streets as Kensi parked her car outside of the building. Scant rain peppered the ground, lifting the smell of wet dust and warm stone into the air. She reached into the backseat and grabbed a light jacket, zipping it before she slid out of the car. Birdsong brought a smile to her lips. The twin sets of keys in her hand jingled as she walked. A bag of Chinese food swung in her other hand, bumping her leg now and again.

Deftly, she unlocked the outer door and entered the apartment building's lobby, shaking her hood back from her face. The cool, white tiled space was quiet and empty apart from an old lady collecting her mail from the mailbox in the corner. Leafy green plants dotted the lobby, their brightly coloured pots providing a welcome splash of colour in the otherwise plain room.

Kensi smiled at her as she headed over, twisting the keys in her hands to find the one that she wanted. They'd never spoke other than to say hello, but the old woman was a familiar face after a few weeks of visits to the apartment building. Kensi found the key and slid it into the lock, stomach rumbling a little as the scent of ginger and spices found her nose.

It was a familiar routine to her now, and one she found herself looking forward to at the end of the day. Hetty had pressed the keys into her hand the day Deeks had been released from the hospital, telling her to go and keep the recuperating man company. Kensi had a feeling the idea had come from Callen. The team leader hadn't denied it, just shook his head and told her to get going.

Deeks hadn't said a word when she turned up on his doorstep, clutching a bag of take away food and a DVD, just smiled tiredly and stepped back to let her in. The haunted look in his eyes had made her stay, napping in a chair while he slept on the long, overstuffed couch. Even asleep, pain had etched tense lines into his face.

The shadows under his eyes had finally started to fade after a month of rest and good food, but they were still both healing. She wondered what his nightmares were about. Hers were filled with blood, and faceless men chasing her through endless hallways until she stumbled over a body. Sometimes, it was Dom, sprawled against the wall while he slowly bled out. Often, it was her father, face pale and gaunt. Mostly, it was Deeks, shoulder braced against the wall as he fought not to go into the good night.

Talking helped. They'd both stayed awake late into the night, bottles of beer slowly growing warm on the coffee table as they shared tales and confessed secrets that on-one else knew. He knew where she'd been shot. She knew why there were no family pictures on his walls, knew why he'd taken everything personal and locked it in a chest in his spare room.

"You're Marty's friend, aren't you?" the old lady asked.

Her voice dragged Kensi back from her thoughts. "We work together," Kensi said, and grabbed the mail from the box.

"You don't look much like a police detective, young lady." The old woman peered at her. "You're far too pretty."

Kensi smiled, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "Thank you." She lifted the letters. "Guess I better get these up to him."

The old woman caught Kensi's arm in a gentle grip. "I live below him. He tries to be quiet, but I can usually hear him moving around." She shook her head. "I haven't heard him today. I was gonna go up there and knock, but I didn't want to intrude if he was just sleeping."

"I'm sure he's just resting." Kensi frowned. "The doctors did tell him to take it easy," she added, trying to ignore the worry blooming sharp and acidic under her breastbone. "I'll get this up to him before it goes cold," she said and hurried towards the elevators, silently urging them to move faster. She had a really bad feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

His door was ajar when she walked up to it. She touched it with careful fingertips, rocking it a little on its hinges. The security chain on the back of the door rattled. She crouched, and eyed the keyhole. It looked un-damaged, with no telltale scratches that meant someone had tried to force the door. _Well, that or whoever picked the lock was an expert, _she thought uneasily.

"Deeks? You in?" she called softly, and listened hard for a reply.

The air conditioning clicked off. Dead silence was answered her. She frowned, setting the mail and food down next to the door so she could draw her gun. Training trumped worry, and she eased carefully through the door, sucking in a choked breath as she saw the ruined living room.

Chairs and tables had been over turned, fabric torn and wood splintered. The old books he hoarded so carefully had been pulled from their shelves and scattered on the floor, pages strewn like fallen leaves. Glass crunched under her feet. She risked a glance down, seeing the shattered remains of a vodka bottle. _Deeks doesn't drink vodka,_ she thought, and frowned again.

Quickly, she checked the kitchen and bathroom, finding the same utter destruction there. In the kitchen, the crockery had been pulled from the cupboards and lay smashed on the floor. Beer soaked the tiles from a dozen shattered bottles. The bathroom had escaped the worst of it-only the large mirror on the wall about the sink had been broken.

The wanton violence made her heart race, but her hands were steady around her gun. _This doesn't make any sense,_ she thought, as she moved back towards the living room. His wallet and watch still sat on the shelf by the door, seemingly untouched. The widescreen TV they'd spent so many hours watching old movies on lay on the floor, screen smashed beyond repair.

_Not a robbery, then._ She looked around, seeing the things he valued destroyed so thoroughly, and had to wonder what could cause such hatred. Another thought struck her, one she didn't like at all._ Did you do this, Deeks?_

Some small sound drew her towards the bedroom. She pushed the door open with the toe of her boot and scanned the room, checking for danger. More books and clothes lay strewn on the floor. She caught sight of his favourite t-shirt torn into rags and winced, blinking back tears. No-one jumped out at her, so she stepped inside, turning the corner towards the bed.

And froze, a long, shocked second as her mind scrambled to take in what she was looking at. It did, and she bolted towards the bed, snatching up a towel from the back of a chair as she passed. Goosebumps raced over her skin, leaving her cold and shaking.

Deeks lay on his side, back facing towards her. One arm was tucked under the pillows under his head. The other was flung across the bed, outstretched as if he was reaching for something. Blood pooled under his wrist from a long, ragged tear in his skin. Perspiration plastered his hair to his skin.

She knelt behind him on the bed, reaching over his body to wrap the towel tightly around his wrist. Blood soaked into the terrycloth, smearing against her as she lifted his arm, holding it against her body to raise the wound above his heart.

He didn't move, body limp and un-responsive. It scared her more than the blood soaking into her white shirt. She pressed her fingers against his neck, shaking so hard she could barley feel his pulse. It beat faintly against her fingertips.

"Deeks!" she called sharply, patting his cheek. Her fingers left blood on his skin. Stubble rasped against her fingers.

He shuddered, a soft, hitching breath moving his shoulders. The bare skin of his back felt cold and damp against her jean-clad legs. His lips moved, saying words that she couldn't understand.

"Damn it, Deeks," she muttered and fished one-handed in her pocket for her cell phone. "Don't you dare die on me."

The phone rang three times before he answered the call. She didn't give him chance to speak. "Callen. I need an ambulance at Deeks' apartment." Her throat closed over the words. They hurt when she forced them out. "I don't know what's going on, but it looks like he tried to kill himself."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Hearing came back first in a wash of noise that made his pounding headache worse. The scent of his own blood made his stomach roll. He blinked, trying to make sense of the fuzzy white and red blob in front of his face. His eyes refused to focus, so he gave up, letting them drift back closed.

"Deeks?" Kensi said sharply. "Can you hear me?"

Tension sang through his body as he jerked awake again, struggling to get away from her. Kensi dropped the phone and pressed her free hand against his shoulder, trying to hold him still. His eyes were bright and wide with panic.

"Hey, hey," she called softly. "Deeks. It's okay. I've got you."

His struggles weakened as the movement exhausted him. The ribs under her hand heaved as he fought for breath. She touched his cheek, sweeping the hair back from his face. Her fingertips brushed his neck. His pulse beat wildly against her hand.

His brain finally put the pieces together, mashing them into place with exhausted logic. _Gotta warn her…_ he though fuzzily. _Not safe._

"You shouldn't be here," he rasped in a way that brought her heart into her throat with worry. Shivers raced through his body. His eyes drifted closed, sandy eyelashes looking very dark against his parchment-pale skin.

She reached down and grabbed the blankets, dragging them over his body, hoping that it would help. The first aid classes all agents had to take seemed to be so far away now. "What happened?" she asked.

He didn't seem to hear the question. "Not safe. Go, now. They want to kill you." His teeth chattered as shock kicked in hard and fast.

"You're confused," she said, forcing her cramping fingers to stay tight around his wrist. "It's safe. No-one is trying to kill us."

Heavy boot steps on the floor outside almost made her take that back. She closed her hand around her gun, ignoring the tacky, drying blood on her skin.

"Kensi?" Callen called. He pitched his voice low, but the concern shone through. "Where are you?"

She shuddered in relief and dropped her fingers from the Sig. "In the bedroom!" she yelled back.

Seconds later, Callen burst into the room. He looked pale, but composed. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at the bed. It passed quickly as he picked his way through the bedroom towards them. "How is he?" Callen asked.

She half turned so that she could look at him, lifting on shoulder in a shrug. "Alive. He came to for a couple of minutes, but I think it exhausted him. Looks like he's lost quite a bit of blood."

"What happened?" he asked as he passed, squeezing her shoulder on his way to the other side of the bed. "There's an ambulance on the way."

The bed creaked as he leaned over it to press his fingers to Deeks' throat. The blonde man blinked slowly, eyes unfocused. His skin pale beneath his tan.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I came over as usual, and found his door open. Did a sweep when I saw that the place had been trashed, and found him here like this." She blinked hard. "Do you think he tried to…" Her voice caught, and she looked away until she had the emotion firmly back under control.

"I guess we'll have to ask him," Callen said and wrapped his fingers around hers. "Let me take a turn. I can see your hand cramping from here."

She gently loosened her grip, letting him apply pressure to Deeks' wrist. Blood marked all of them in rusty streaks. The blonde man groaned as the pressure changed.

Sirens tore through the air outside. She stood up without looking at Callen. "I'll go and let them in."

He reached over and touched her arm. "Sam's downstairs. He'll bring them up. You need to stay here."

Mutely, she nodded and dropped back onto the bed, pressing the flat of her hand against Deek's shoulder. The overhead light brought out pale smudges where bruises had faded away to almost nothing. She laid her hand over the biggest of them and prayed that he'd live to get many more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note-**

**I just want to say thank you for all of the reviews. They are really nice to have. Lots of people seem to have this on story alert too, which is always nice. If you have got this story on alert but haven't reviewed, I'd love to hear what you think of it. :) I know these chapters have been a little bit too short- this is my first NCIS:LA fic, and I'm still kinda feeling the characters out. **

**Anyway, I'll shut up so you can read the interesting part. ;)**

**Lou**

Chapter Four

Kensi jerked when a warm hand touched her arm. She tore her eyes away from Deeks' pale, too still face and half turned. Sam crouched by the bed, the paramedics entering the room behind him. _I didn't even hear him come in,_ she thought, dazed.

Sam glanced across the bed, swapping glances with Callen. The other man frowned, then shook his head, worry plain in his eyes. His shoulders were tense, face tight with emotion. Sam didn't look much better. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and his eyes were never still.

Long habit made Callen look around the room, scanning for something - anything - that was out of place. The destruction made it harder, but he had spent too much time honing this skill not to spot little things that bothered him. Like the small bit of twine laying on the floor. Like the empty pill bottle tucked in a fold of the bedding. _Something's really not right here,_ he thought.

"Ma'am, sir. We need you to step back so we can work," the woman paramedic said. She was short, and stocky. Bags of equipment hung over her shoulders.

Her partner stepped forward, leaning over the bed to check Deeks' vitals. He rattled off a string of medical terms that made no sense to Kensi. His tone implied that Deeks' wasn't doing so well.

Mutely, Kensi moved away from the bed, backing up until her shoulders hit the wall.

"How long has he been like this?" the female paramedic asked as she deftly started an IV line.

Kensi wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. "I don't know."

Callen walked over to her, moving through the trashed room with ease. He stopped in front of her, laying his hands on her upper arms. "Kensi, when did you last speak to Deeks?"

The human contact helped. She blinked, thinking hard. "Just after I left work. I phoned him to ask what DVD he wanted me to pick up. He sounded fine then."

"Can't be more than an hour," Callen supplied. He fished his car keys out of his pocket. "Why don't you go and get changed? I have some clean t-shirts in the car."

She took the keys, but didn't move. A pained groan from the bed made her push past Callen, heading back towards her injured partner. Icy cold fear washed through her, lifting goosebumps on her skin.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, ignoring the hand on her arm. "What's happening to him?"

"It's okay, ma'am," the female paramedic said, but barely glanced at her, every ounce of her attention fixed on Deeks. "We just had to turn him to get the cardiac leads in place. He's pretty bruised."

Deeks groaned again, rolling his head from side to side as consciousness returned. His tongue touched his dry lips. One arm rose to claw at the oxygen mask on his face, then dropped as his strength waned. A harsh breath shook his wiry frame, almost lifting his shoulders from the bed. He twisted, gaze darting frantically around the room. "Where is she?" he rasped.

"Sir, we need you to lay still," the paramedic said. "We're trying to help you."

The blonde man got his good hand down on the bed, clenching a handful of blood-stained bedding as he thrashed. Sweat broke out on his skin, flashing under the lights.

Kensi stared with wet eyes, hands pressed tightly against her mouth. Every fibre of her body wanted to go to him. Standing back, not being able to do anything but watch was killing her. An empty hallway, and a badge in her hands flashed through her mind.

"Where is she?" Deeks almost screamed. "Hurt. Not safe!" he ground out, spine arching. His eyes were wild and unfocused. Blood streamed from his arm as the frantic movements tore the IV free from his vein.

Kensi moved towards the bed, instinct driving her to comfort her partner. The female paramedic stopped her with a quick gesture. "Please. Give us room to work."

Callen ignored the glare she gave him as he walked around the bed, crouching by the top end of it. "Deeks," he said, pitching his voice low, aiming to reassure the other man. "Kensi is safe. Sam is with her. No-one has hurt her."

Sam stepped forward, pulling Kensi into a hug. She resisted for a long second before relaxing and accepting the comfort. Her body shook with emotion she had no outlet for. _Crying won't do,_ she told herself sternly, and blinked tears from her eyes. 

The male paramedic rolled the stretcher next to the bed and flipped the blankets off Deeks. The injured man was wearing shorts, hopelessly twisted around his body. "Well, I don't think your friend tried to kill himself after all," the male paramedic said, and reached for some bandages to dress the raw, vivid marks around Deeks' ankles.

Callen looked down the bed, eyes turning dark and hard with anger. "Ligature marks," he said, voice heavy with disgust. "Someone tied him down and did this to him."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Can you clear the way please?" the male paramedic said, holding an IV bag at shoulder level. "We need to move him now." He pulled his blood-stained gloves off and replaced them with a fresh pair.

Callen stood and took the IV bag from him, watching as the paramedics eased Deeks onto the stretcher. A raw looking mark wrapped around Deeks' left wrist where a too-tight binding had bitten into his skin. Callen was willing to bet that they'd find a matching mark under the blood on his other wrist. _Bastards, _he thought, a flash of true anger washing though him for the scum who had done this to an already injured man.

He'd seen lots of bad things in his line of work, and had more than a few happen to him, but there was a level of cruelty about this that he'd seldom seen before. It brought fury to a slow, rolling boil in his gut.

Mottled bruises covered Deeks' lower back, vivid streaks of colour that crossed over his spine, edging up towards his ribs. Two areas were darker, almost black rather than lurid purples and browns. Fingerprint sized bruises dotted his arms, small, dark marks that looked deep and painful.

Even the paramedic winced. "These are fresh bruises," he muttered. "Made within the last day, I'd bet. A doctor would be able to tell you better."

"Knee marks," Sam said and shook his head, anger plain and hard in his eyes. "Someone knelt on him to hold him down. They didn't want him to struggle."

"Why?" Kensi asked. "Why all of this force?" She patted Sam's side, then stepped out of his hug. Bone-deep fury had replaced the shock. It made her hands tremble, and brought a wash of colour to her cheeks. "He was still very weak. There was no need for this." She lifted her hand to gesture at the bed, at Deeks.

The blonde man was resting quietly, eyes closed. His eyes flickered as the female paramedic leaned over him to check his vitals again. The blue tinge to his lips had started to fade as the IV fluids replaced the blood he had lost. He seemed calmer, though Callen couldn't tell if that was from utter exhaustion or the knowledge that his team was around him, working to keep him safe. _I knew,_ Callen thought. _Even when I was unconscious, I knew that they where there._

"Folks, we need to move," the female paramedic said quietly. "I'll be much happier when we get your friend into a hospital."

"I'm riding with him," Kensi said and lifted her chin. Unconsciously, her hand dropped to her gun, resting lightly on the handle as if daring them to say no to her.

Callen nodded easily. "We don't know what's going on. I'd feel better if he had a protection detail with him. Sam and I will brief Hetty, then meet you at the hospital."

Gingerly, Kensi took the IV bag from Callen and followed the paramedics as the rolled the stretcher through the trashed apartment. Glass crunched under the solid rubber wheels. It sounded like crisp, dry old leaves.

Kensi's foot slipped on something. She looked down, seeing a page torn from one of Deeks' treasured boots, ripped in half and ground into the carpet like it was worthless. It was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes again. She fought them back and carefully lifted her foot, stepping over the tattered remains of the book. A wistful smile touched her lips as she squinted at the title. _The Call of the Wild,_ she read.

The noise of people talking in the hallway outside of the apartment grew louder as they walked closer to the door. Kensi frowned, knowing instinctively that Deeks would hate for anyone to see him like this. She turned, meeting Sam's eyes across the over-turned couch.

Sam moved past them with surprising grace. "Let me clear the way," he said, and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. They could hear his voice through the door, but the thick wood muffled the sound enough that she could only understand a few words.

Kensi shifted her grip on the IV bag, then reached over with her free hand, brushing her fingers over his arm. Footsteps behind her told her Callen had left the bedroom. "I feel like I failed him," she said softly. "There must have been some sign, something I missed." The words felt sharp and thick in her throat.

Callen shook his head. "None of us could have predicted this. Even Hetty." He reached for the IV bag, pressing a dark blue sweatshirt into her hands. "We'll bring you a change to the hospital, but you need to cover that blood up."

She nodded and slipped the sweatshirt over her head, twitching it straight. It was too big for her- the sleeves fell over her hands, and the hem hit her in mid thigh. She shoved the sleeves up, the scent of detergent and aftershave reaching her nose.

The door swung open again. Sam poked his head in. Callen lifted an eyebrow at him. "You done scaring everyone back inside?" he asked, hating the gallows humour even as it helped him to control his swirling emotions.

"I'm done. I don't think any of them will come out again until at least Thanksgiving," Sam muttered. "We'll have to get a team over her to interview them."

Callen held up his phone. "Already on it. Hetty contacted the LAPD. They're sending a couple of detectives over."

A young patrolman had arrived outside. Sam grunted. "About time you showed up," he bit off. "Keep an eye on the apartment. Our forensics team is on the way over to sweep the place. Don't let anyone else in."

The patrolman nodded. "Yes, sir." His eyes drifted to Deeks' pale face. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He damn well better be," Callen said softly, dangerously. "But either way, someone is going to pay for this."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Kensi paced the hospital hallway, alone for the first time since she'd found Deeks. Hours seemed to have passed, yet her watch insisted that barely an hour had scraped by since she'd turned up outside of the apartment door. She'd stripped off her bloodstained hoodie, bagging it neatly in case there was trace evidence on it that would help them to catch the bastard who had hurt her partner.

She still wore his sweatshirt. A small part of her knew that she should find it weird, but worry and exhaustion and anger was burning through her, taking up all of her energy. She wouldn't admit it, even on pain of death, but the sweatshirt was strangely comforting. It still smelled like him- aftershave, and detergent and a hint of male musk.

The treatment room door jerked open. The doctor hurried out. She was tall, and slim, but had a solidly competent air that reminded Kensi of Hetty. "Ms…"

"Hart," Kensi supplied. The alias fell easily from her lips. "How is he?"

They'd checked Deeks in under another name. Callen didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Serious, but stable for now," the doctor said. She leaned against the wall next Kensi. "Ms. Hart. Is there any chance your friend has taken drugs?" She shook her head. "We've sent his blood work off, but there's something going on that I can't put my finger on."

Mutely, Kensi shook her head. "No. He would never take drugs," she said firmly. "Can I see him, please?" she asked, annoyed to find tears in her eyes again. She scrubbed them away with the back of one hand.

"Sure." The doctor pushed away from the wall, and touched Kensi's arm. "I have to warn you. We have him intubated. I know it looks scary, but it is helping him. His lungs are pretty bruised, and fighting that was exhausting him. He's also heavily sedated. God willing, we'll be able to take him off the vent sometime in the next few days. Once the tube is out, we'll wean him off the sedation."

Kensi clenched her hands in the sweatshirt's sleeves, bunching the fabric in her fists. "Okay."

The doctor lead the way into the treatment room, picking the chart up from the end of the bed and marking Deeks' vitals on it.

"Oh, my god," Kensi whispered as she approached the bed. A flash of Callen laying in another hospital bed passed through her mind and vanished.

Her partner looked lost beneath a wild tangle of tubes and wires. The ventilator next to the bed wheezed softly. She found it hard to look at his face. Instead, she swept her gaze over his body, wincing as the stark lighting revealed every tiny injury to him. A bulky dressing covered most of his right forearm. IV tubes snaked into his body, feeding him blood and other fluids.

"You can touch him if you like," the doctor said softly. "We find that human contact helps people to recover faster. Talk to him, too. I bet he can hear you."

Kensi eased her hand into his, wrapping her fingers around his cold ones. "He's cold," she muttered, and glanced at the doctor.

"I'll get him another blanket," she said, and nodded to a nurse who pulled one out of a warming cabinet and spread it over Deeks. "The surgeons will be coming down for him in a little while to operate on that arm. You can stay with him until they arrive."

A wave of dizziness almost swamped her. Kensi grabbed the bed rails, holding on tightly as her legs almost gave out on her. It passed after a long moment, leaving her feeling shaky and weak.

The doctor guided her down onto a chair with steady hands. "When did you last eat?" she asked, pressing her fingers to Kensi's wrist.

Kensi thought about shaking her hand off, but it seemed like too much effort. The thought of food turned her stomach, leaving her feeling like she was going to throw up. "I had lunch," she protested faintly.

Lunch had been half a sandwich and a handful of chocolate kisses. She glanced at the bed, knowing that if Deeks was awake, he'd have been teasing her about eating junk food in place of a meal. She blinked, thinking about the positive changes he'd made in her life- like insisting that she take time to eat actual food, even on the tough cases.

"Look, I bet you don't feel much like eating right now, but you're no good to him if you're hospitalised because you passed out. I'll get one of the nurses to bring you a sandwich, and I want you to eat it all, or I'm booking you a bed next to him," the doctor said kindly, but sternly. "Now, what do you like?"

The look in her eyes reminded Kensi of Hetty. She rustled up a shaky smile. "Chicken, please," she said, and touched Deeks hand again, reassuring herself that he was still there, was still alive. His skin felt warm and dry under her fingers.

Her eyes drifted to his face, somehow finding it easier to look at him now. The shock of seeing him so very vulnerable had worn off, letting her look past the tubes and wires and see the man clinging so very tightly to life underneath.

A red-haired nurse moved around the bed, checking vitals and changing the bag of blood hanging on the IV stand.

"How many?" the doctor asked.

The nurse glanced at the chart. "Third unit," she supplied.

Kensi sucked in a startled breath. "He bled that much?"

The doctor nodded. "There was a lot of bleeding." She tapped her pen against the back of her hand. "It didn't help that his body was still replacing blood from his shooting," she added. "He's a fighter, though. That helps."

A white-clad man stepped into the room. He held a folder in his hands, passing it over to the doctor. "Mr. Adam's blood work," he said.

"Thank you." The doctor signed for the folder, then flipped rapidly through it. "I thought you said your friend didn't do drugs," she muttered, annoyed.

Kensi shook her head. "No. He doesn't take drugs," she insisted. "I know him. In all the time I've known him, I've never seen him take so much as an aspirin."

The doctor sighed. "Then you have a problem, because there is a substantial amount of opiates in his system."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note- **

**I wanna say thank you for all of the fantastic support. Love the reviews, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for updates. I think I'm finally starting to get an idea of how to write these characters.**

**I'm glad you're all enjoying this. I'm having fun writing it. **

**Lou**

Chapter Seven

Callen scanned the quiet waiting room, spotting Kensi almost right away. She was sitting in the corner, back to the wall, huddled inside of the blue sweatshirt as if she was very cold.

Something about her posture sent a sharp pang of worry through him. He brushed past an old man, heading for his team mate. _She would have called if anything bad had happened,_ he told himself harshly. The words did nothing at all to help the hollow feeling inside of him.

"Kensi," he said, kneeling in front of her. The grey and white tiles felt very cold against his legs.

Her tear-stained eyes tracked slowly to his face. She didn't even try to hide the raw emotion in her voice. "Callen."

He took hold of her hands. They felt like blocks of ice in his palms. Carefully, he rubbed them, trying to bring some warmth back into her fingers. It was more touching than either of them usually allowed themselves, and Callen spared a second thinking that they'd all come to find a quick touch, a brush of fingertips over skin, comforting. They needed it. _We've been through so much in the past few months,_ he thought. _How much more can we take before one of us snaps?_

"What happened?" he asked, injecting a tiny bite of command into his voice. "How's he doing?" he added more softly.

The tone made her straighten, chin lifting just a fraction. It was an unconscious response, and at any other time, he'd have found it amusing. Now, he was just glad that it had brought a little life back into her eyes.

"He lost a lot of blood. The doctor said that his lungs were bruised." She stopped talking and closed her eyes, blowing out a harsh breath before she could continue. "They have him on a ventilator, Callen."

He squeezed her hand. "He's as annoying as all hell, but he's a fighter, Kensi. Where is he now?"

"They took him up to surgery to operate on his arm." She paused, gathering her thoughts, "The doctor thinks he's been using drugs- opiates." Her voice cracked. She swallowed and kept talking. "She said that there was a high level of them in his system."

"That could be from his last stay in hospital," Callen suggested, and suppressed a shudder.

Bullet holes hurt like hell. Close, personal experience had taught him that. Unbidden, his free hand rose and rubbed one of the scars under his black t-shirt. It flared with phantom pain. He'd been glad of the drugs, and he was willing to bet that Deeks had felt the same.

Kensi shook her head. "No. She said the levels were too high to be from them. He has to have taken the drugs within the last twenty-four hours for them to be so high."

"So either he's been taking heavy-duty painkillers, and not telling us, or he's been using," Callen said unhappily.

Neither idea appealed to Callen very much. The blonde man had seemed to be recovering well, his pain easing as he healed. The broken rib had been bothering him, but he'd insisted that it wasn't bad enough to need painkillers. None of them had argued with him. They just clustered around when he needed them, silently offering support and companionship that Deeks had accepted with quiet grace.

They'd grown closer as a team, sliding into easy habits and simple routines that helped all of them. Movie night at Deeks' apartment was just one of them, designed to patch the cracks his shooting had put in the team.

Callen let his eyes un-focus, thinking back over the time since his team mate had been released from hospital. Deeks had tired easily, and there had been moments of inattention that drove Sam mad. Nothing suggested that he'd been using heavy drugs. Nothing even hinted that something like this was going to happen.

Another idea formed slowly in his mind, one he liked even less than the first two. "Or someone drugged him," he said quietly. "Any of those smaller bruises could have been a needle mark. None of us looked too close at them."

Kensi sniffed and wiped her eyes. "What are you thinking?" Her shoulders straightened as the anger crept back. "Callen?" she prompted when the other agent didn't answer.

The chaos in the apartment suddenly made more sense to Callen. "I think someone was looking for something. They drugged him to keep him quiet and out of the way. When they didn't find it, they tortured him."

A shudder passed through Kensi as she thought of her partner helpless under someone's hands. Guilt clawed at her. _I should have noticed that something was wrong. I should have been there._ She bit her lip, using the pain to chase the guilt away. "Do you think he told them?"

Callen shrugged. "I guess we'll have to wait until he wakes up to find out."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_She looks so damn young, _Sam thought as he watched his team mate sleeping. He'd never been one to dwell on the age differences between them, but there were times that it still caught him off guard. It didn't matter to him- he knew the dark haired woman was easily - scarily- competent in many skills. She could kick ass and take names like few other people he knew.

Sometimes, though, it just hit him, made him sit back and think about how much they'd all done- and how much of themselves they gave to the job. He doubted that any of them would have it any other way. _We all have things we'll regret until the day we die, and things that we'll always be proud of doing. _Weighing the scales, he could honestly say that his life had left him with more of the latter than the former.

He shook his head, knowing that his thoughts were rambling out of his control. It was dangerous, and foolhardy. Lack of focus got people killed. Yet, he also knew that they all needed some downtime to wrap their minds around everything that had happened so they could move past it.

"You meditating again there, Sam?" Callen asked, straightening out the newspaper he was pretending to read with a flick of his wrist.

"No, G." The dark skinned man shook his head, glancing ruefully at Callen. "Just thinking."

"Uh-huh," Callen said, gently teasing. "Looked like you were sleeping to me."

Gratefully, Sam accepted the distraction. "And what would you know about sleeping, G?" He lifted his eyebrows. "There's been times when I've wanted to knock you over the head with something heavy to get you to rest."

The brown-haired man rolled his eyes. "You're only jealous because I need less sleep than you."

The light banter helped. It pushed back the worry a little bit, giving them a moment to catch their breath and gather their resources. They both knew that it would look ghoulish and un-caring to an outsider, but if you wanted to stay in the job for any length of time, you had to find a way to cope. And this was theirs, an easy give and take that worked for both of them.

Callen tipped his head towards the door. "Looks like we're going to get an update. Deeks' doctor just walked in."

"You think he's alright?" Sam asked.

"He damn well better be," Callen muttered.

Dom's death had cut them all deep, leaving wounds in places that he sometimes thought would never heal. He wasn't sure if any of them could cope with losing another agent.

Sam nudged Kensi awake. She was curled up on one of the uncomfortable couches with a blue hospital blanket spread over her legs. The dark haired woman snapped upright, eyes flying open even as she yawned.

"What is it?" she asked, glancing at her watch. She'd been asleep for just over an hour, and it had left her with a pounding headache. Her spine popped as she stretched, trying to work the stiffness out of her muscles.

"The doctor's coming," Sam told her, pressing a bottle of orange juice into her hands. "Drink," he instructed gently.

She rolled her eyes at the mothering, but took the bottle and twisted the lid off, letting the juice wash the taste of morning from her mouth. Dark circles ringed her eyes. They made her look older, and strangely fragile.

"How is he?" Kensi blurted as soon as the doctor reached them.

"Your friend is out of surgery and is in recovery. He's stable and resting well. We're keeping him intubated for now so the bruising in his lungs can heal." The doctor sat down across from them, rubbing her hands over her face. "The surgeons were initially concerned that there might be damage to the nerves, but that doesn't seem to be the case. He'll need PT for a while, but he should regain full use of that hand."

Kensi sighed, tension leaching out of her body. "Can we see him?"

"Of course," she said and stood, the ghost of a mischievous smile touching her lips. "Normally, we have a rule of only two visitors, but I don't think that's going to work with you lot, it is?"

They followed her into a dimly lit hallway. Callen's phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

"I have to take this," he told them. "I'll catch up with you."

The doctor showed them into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Callen leaned against the wall, tapping the button to answer the call. "Hey, Hetty."

"Mr. Callen," she said crisply. "How is he doing?"

He rubbed his forehead, wishing that he could rub away the nagging headache.

"Out of surgery, and in recovery. He's stable, but I get the sense that the doctors are more worried about him than they're letting on."

"Keep me updated," she said.

"I will," Callen assured her. "Hetty, is there something you're not telling me?"

He heard her teacup rattle against the saucer. "Why would you think that, Mr. Callen?"

A passing nurse glance at him. He smiled, then turned away, looking out of the window at the slowly creeping dawn. It had been a long night, and he had a feeling that it was going to be an even longer day. "Just a feeling, Hetty," he said.

She sighed, a sound he'd rarely heard her make. "You're right." The teacup rattled again. "Our forensics team found evidence that Mr. Deeks was attacked by someone inside of the LAPD."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Kensi settled herself more comfortable position in the bedside chair and picked up the book resting on the side table. She wasn't sure where Callen had found it, but he had pressed it into her hands not long after she'd asked for a copy. She had a feeling that Hetty had been involved somewhere along the line.

The cover felt soft and warn under her hands as she traced the title. "Well, Deeks. I know that you like this book, and it's one of my favourites, too," she told her partner, glancing at his slack, unresponsive face, wishing fiercely that he would wake up and talk to her._ I never thought I'd say this, but I'd even be glad to hear him bitching._

She thumbed through the book, finding the start of the first chapter. "Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego," she read, letting the rhythm of the words wash over her.

The steady beeping of the cardiac monitor seemed to change, speeding up a little. She glanced at the screen, unsure of what it meant. "Deeks?" she said uncertainty, and touched his hand.

His fingers seemed to move just the tiniest bit. She searched his face, wondering if she'd imagined the movement. His hand twitched again. It looked as if he was reaching for something.

She dropped the book onto the chair and reached for the call button, jabbing her thumb down on it urgently. The plastic clicked under her hand.

A nurse dressed in pale blue scrubs walked into the room barely a moment later. She studied the monitors, then checked the blonde man's eyes with a small torch.

"What's happening?" Kensi asked, arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Is he okay?"

The nurse smiled. "He's trying to wake up. I'll page his doctor, and see if we can wean him off the sedatives." She touched Kensi's arm. "It's a good thing. Whatever you were doing was working."

Kensi picked up the book and held it up. "I was reading to him." 

"Then I'd keep doing it," the nurse said. "He's fighting. You just need to give him something to fight for."

Kensi found her place in the book and sat back down, clearing her throat a little before she started reading again. "Buck's senses came back to him, but not his strength." She found herself glancing at his face at the end of every line, willing him to open his eyes and stop scaring her. _You owe me big time for this,_ she thought. _And cups of jello aren't going to get you off the hook this time._

His doctor came in and repeated the checks that the nurse had just done. Kensi stopped reading to watch her as she adjusted one of the machines, a small, squat square with preloaded syringes inside of it. A plunger moved, feeding the drugs into a coil of tubing. Her eyes traced the tube that ran from the machine into Deeks' IV.

"What does that do?" the dark-haired woman asked. She'd spent enough time in hospital- thankfully more as a visitor than a patient- to be familiar with some of the equipment. Her father had always insisted the knowledge was power, and the words had stuck. _The more you know about something, the less scary it is,_ she thought.

The doctor made a note on the chart and clipped it back to the end of the bed. "This was feeding him the sedatives. I've set it to a tapering dose. It'll bring him awake slowly."

Kensi nodded and bunched her hands in the sweatshirt sleeves again. "That's a good thing, right?" Her eyes flickered over the monitors again. She felt very off-balance. Illness and injury- especially serious injury- scared her. She couldn't fight them with a gun or a swift punch to the gut. They came down to luck and strength and sheer damned stubbornness… things she had in spades, but the thought of being trapped in a bed, helpless, still scared her witless.

"It's the difference between someone waking you up by popping a balloon in your ear or by talking to you," the doctor said dryly. She moved around the bed and took Deeks' good hand in hers. "Mr. Adams, I need you to squeeze my hand for me," she instructed, then frowned. "Come on, Mr. Adams. I know you can do it."

"What's the matter?" Kensi asked, wrapping her arms around the book and leaning forwards, towards the bed.

"He's not responding how I'd like," the doctor said. "It's almost like he's not hearing what I'm saying to him."

_Or not aware that you're talking to him,_ Kensi thought and bit her lip, making a swift decision that she hoped wouldn't come back to haunt her. "Try Deeks…" she suggested, "it's a… a nickname of his."

The doctor lifted her eyebrows, but nodded. "Okay, Deeks. I need you to squeeze my hand for me."

This time, the faintest flutter of movement met her words. She smiled, and nodded for Kensi to take his hand. "Now, Deeks. Do you think you could do the same thing for your friend?"

Kensi took his hand, feeling the calluses from his gun against her palm. She held her breath, hardly daring to hope until his hand twitched in hers. "He's waking up," she said, a faint flicker of relief stirring inside of her.

The doctor smiled, pleased. "Give him thirty minutes, and we'll see if we can get rid of that tube."

"What can I do until then?" Kensi asked.

The doctor pressed the book back into her hands. "Read to him."

Kensi settled herself back into the chair and opened the book, one-handed. _I'm not letting go of him until he's awake and bitching,_ she thought and started reading. "As he spoke he fearlessly patted the head he had so mercilessly pounded, and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand, he endured it without protest..."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

It didn't take long for him to start to wake up. Deeks stirred on the bed, one hand reaching towards his face. He rolled his head from side to side. His eyes flickered open, a quick flash of colour in his too-pale face. They slid closed quickly, the sedative still washing through his body. He convulsed, body trying to cough out the tube in his throat.

A nurse pressed her hands to his shoulders, holding him still until he relaxed, slumping against the pillows. Sweat dampened his forehead. She picked up a cool, damp cloth and wiped it away.

"Just try to relax. The tube is there to help you breathe." She patted his arm. "Bear with us for a few minutes and we'll have it out."

Kensi pressed a hand over her mouth, a little bit scared by what was happening. Her eyebrows drew together as she frowned, eyes fixed on her partner.

"Is he alright?" she asked.

"The sedation hasn't fully worn off yet. He'll be confused and very sleepy at the moment." She caught sight of Kensi's face and smiled gently. "Don't worry. This is all quite normal at the moment. I doubt he'll remember any of it."

Kensi nodded and let her hands drop. She fiddled with the book, turning it over in her hands. Her teeth pressed down on her bottom lip as she watched the doctor gather her equipment.

The doctor touched Kensi's arm. "Ms. Hart. I'd like you to wait in the hallway for this next bit. It can be very distressing, and I feel it would be better if you don't see it." She slipped a pair of gloves on and reached for a covered tray, taking a small, empty syringe from it.

Numbly, Kensi laid down the book and stepped outside the room, pressing her back to the cold wall. Her head pounded tensely, and she felt vaguely sick. There was a vending machine halfway down the hallway. She wandered toward it, pulling a few coins out of her pocket to buy a soda, hoping that it would settle her stomach. The cold liquid helped, quenching her thirst.

Bare seconds later, she found herself standing back outside of the door, staring out of the window. She could hear the doctor's voice, a gentle counter point to Deeks' harsh coughing. _As soon as he's awake, I'm going to kill him for this,_ she thought. Her hand dropped to her side, brushing over the phone in her jeans pocket.

She fished it out, dialling a number that she knew as well as her own birthday. It rang a few times before Hetty answered.

"Hi, Hetty," Kensi said, clearing her throat. "Just checking in."

"How is he?" The older woman didn't waste any time on small talk. "We're all hoping that he'd been back with us by now."

Kensi could hear the normal, late night sounds of the Mission, and wished suddenly that they were all back there, clustered around a desk or in the Ops room as they tried to solve a case. Normal life could be boring, but in that second, it sounded pretty damned good to her.

"Waking up. They're taking him off the vent now," Kensi said, and took another swig of her soda. "The doctor sent me out of the room while the remove the tube."

An orderly walked past, pushing a cart laden with clean bedding. One of the wheels squeaked, the sharp sound making Kesni frown. The air smelt like lemon and pine.

"I'm very glad to hear that he's coming around," Hetty replied. "Do Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna know?"

Kensi shook her head, then realised Hetty couldn't see the gesture. "No. I phoned you first."

"I'll let them know," Hetty assured her. "Your place is with Mr. Deeks. We need him safe and well again."

"How is the investigation going?" Kensi asked, and paced down the hallway, stretching her legs after too many hours of sitting in uncomfortable chairs. Her lower back protested, and she stopped for a moment to stretch, working the kinks out.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna are following a few leads," Hetty said. "Mr. Beal is going to send you a list of names. I need you to go over them with Mr. Deeks. See if anything jumps out at him."

Kensi almost winced, remembering the last list she'd had to go through with her partner. "As soon as he's awake," she promised. "Well, if his doctor clears it," she amended quickly. "They don't want him tiring out."

"That's understandable. This is important, but don't force Mr. Deeks into it if he's not up to it. Don't worry, it won't be as long as the last one," Hetty said, as if she was reading Kensi's mind.

Deeks' doctor poked her head into the hallway. Kensi scanned her posture, finding nothing but subdued relief. It reassured her more than words could have.

"Looks like I can go back in," the dark-haired woman said into the phone.

"Let us know if anything changes," Hetty said. "And Ms. Blye? When you're finished going over that list, I want you to get some rest. Understand?"

"I will, Hetty," Kensi promised, already wondering how exactly the petite woman classified rest.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note-**

**This is the longest chapter so far, and my favourite one, I think. Hope you'll like it too. ****J**

**Lou**

Chapter Eleven

Sharp, throbbing pain woke him from a sleep so deep it had been like drowning. Disorientation washed over him, leaving him confused and more than a little bit frightened. _Where the hell am I?_ he thought, and opened his eyes. Gently glowing machines broke the darkness. The gentle beep of a cardiac monitor told him that he was in hospital. It was a sound he'd grown to know well after his shooting.

There was pressure around his arm. Gingerly, he flexed his fingers, wincing when the pressure turned into sharp pain. He ached all over. His chest hurt, pain flaring with every breath, and his throat was sore. It felt like he'd been screaming for a very long time.

A sound close by his head brought his eyes open again, gaze turning towards the noise. Kensi shifted in the chair, leaning forward to tentatively touch his hand.

"Hi," she said, and forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. A book lay open on her lap, and he idly wondered what she had been reading. "How are you feeling?"

A thousand flippant remarks sprang to his lips. He swallowed them back, the fear and worry and exhaustion in her eyes letting him know that this wasn't the time or the place for his brand of gallows humour. "Like someone hit me with a truck," he rasped after a few long seconds. "I finally piss you off enough that you ran me over?" he joked wanly, knowing that the sarcasm in his tone wasn't hiding the vulnerability of the question.

"I'd never do that," she replied with quiet honesty. "Damn it, Deeks. You really scared me this time."

He wasn't sure what he'd done this time to end up flat on his back in a hospital bed. "What happened?" The words slipped from him before he could stop them. "Memory's fuzzy. I can't remember…"

There was a hint of panic in his tone. She took his hand again, squeezing his fingers. He tightened his grip, clinging to her like a falling man clings to an outcropping of rock. The contact helped to convince him that it wasn't all a trick, that it wasn't all going to go spinning out of his reach and leave him behind, broken and hurting, just like things had before.

"Kensi, what happened to me?" he whispered, voice filled with urgency.

"You were attacked. Drugged, and beaten in your apartment. We think your attackers were looking for something," she told him quietly, watching some of the panic fade from his eyes. "The doctors think that the drugs are messing with your memories. Once they're out of your system, your memories should return."

She picked up a small cup of water. A straw stuck out of the top of it. The sight of it made him aware of his raging thirst. His mouth felt as dry as tinder. He touched his dry tongue to even dryer lips.

"Drink?" she asked, and leaned towards him before he answered.

He sipped from the straw, rolling the tepid water around his mouth before swallowing it. Even that tiny effort left him exhausted, eyes drifting closed once more. The darkness lurking behind his lids scared him, so he flexed his hand again, letting the wash of pain chase back the exhaustion.

"How long?"

The effort of talking made him cough. She grabbed his shoulder, bracing him until the spasm passed. Pain made bright stars dance across his vision. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He pressed his tongue against his lip, finding a tiny knick that was bleeding a little.

"You okay?" Kensi asked, watching him with worried eyes. "I can get the doctor." She shifted, looking ready to bolt for the hallway and start yelling for help.

Shaking a little, he sank back against the pillows, shoulders heaving as he struggled to get his breathing back under control. "Bit my lip," he said finally. "Or it opened when I was coughing."

Without a word, she passed him the cup of water again, letting him wash the thick taste of blood from his mouth. He managed three mouthfuls before the effort tired him. "So, how long?" he asked again.

She glanced at her watch. "Almost twenty-four hours." She debated whether to tell him more, then decided to leave the details until he was stronger. Some things could wait. He needed time to heal before she hit him with the damage to his apartment, the fact that she'd found him bleeding out in his own bed.

_The fact that I thought he__'__d tried to kill himself. I should have known better._ Shame flashed through her, streaking away as he reached for her hand again, muscles trembling under the effort. The utterly lost look in his eyes made her grab his hand and hold on tight.

"Feels like longer," he muttered and yawned.

"For all of us, I think."

He shifted on the bed, rolling his shoulders. The stiffness in his back was driving him to distraction. "I had the strangest dream," he murmured. "Something about a dog," he added in a bemused tone, trying to remember.

Unaccountably, Kensi blushed a little. "That might have been my fault." She held up the book, tilting it so that he could read the title.

"Ah, The Call of the Wild." He lifted his eyebrows. "I love that book."

She smiled, handing it over to him. "So do I. My father used to read it to me when I was younger."

He shook his head, running his fingers over the worn binding. Tired amusement flared in his eyes. "That's one hell of a bedtime story." The amusement died, leaving him looking sad and tired and a little bit hurt. "Books were an escape for me when I was small... I'd hear him downstairs with my mother and…" He stopped talking and shook his head. "And find a place to hide with a book until he passed out," he finished bitterly, one eyebrow lifting again. "One hell of a cop, huh?"

Kensi stared at him, chest aching for the young boy he'd been. He tipped his head to look over at her, misreading her silence as disapproval, then looked away again, fixing his gaze on the book.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this." He shrugged awkwardly. "It's all in the past now anyway."

"I want you to listen to me, okay?" She touched two fingers to his cheek, using gentle pressure to turn his face to her. "Marty Deeks. In the time I've known you, I've seen you do stupid, reckless things. I've seen you take down suspects twice your size. I've seen you hold the hand of victims that needed someone to listen to them." She paused to make sure her words were sinking in. "In all of that time, I've never seen you be anything but a good man, and a great cop."

His lips parted, eyes wide with pleased surprise. "Kensi…" he started to say.

She shook her head. "What your father did when you were a child wasn't your fault," she added softly. "And if you tell anyone outside of this room that I said that, I'll not only deny it, but I'll replace your deodorant with pepper spray. Got it?"

A small, pleased smile touched his lips. "Got it."

Satisfied, she turned back to business. "Now, Hetty wants us to go over this list…"

"Hope it's not as long as the last one," he grumbled.

"If it is, I'm eating all of your jello again."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Callen stepped out of the elevator, scanning the long hallway with a quick, habitual movement. It was empty, as he'd expected, but his gut was churning and a tense headache pounded at the base of his skull. His hand dropped to brush over the gun tucked into his jeans at the small of his back. It was a twitch he didn't usually allow himself, knowing that it could get him into deep trouble undercover. In the relative safety of the hallway, the quick touch wasn't dangerous, and it helped to settle his nerves.

Sam noticed the movement and shook his head. "You're getting jumpy, G," he said, but his own eyes never stopped scanning the hallway, and his shoulders were tense.

They were still all on edge, punch- drunk from too much bad coffee and worry and lack of sleep. It should have made them sloppy, but training and adrenaline kept them sharp. They'd both pay for it later. _Sometimes, pushing though is worth it,_ Callen thought. His team had done the same for him after his shooting. It was his turn to repay that favour.

"Yeah, well," Callen said as they walked towards Deeks' apartment door, footsteps echoing lightly in the quiet hallway. "Better jumpy and alive than calm and dead."

They reached the door. Crime scene tape hung across it, kitty cornered. The bright yellow plastic looked disturbingly cheerful against the dark wood. Callen pulled the keys out of his pocket. Long habit made him cup them in his palm to keep them from jingling.

A sharp, distinctive crack from inside the apartment made him pull his gun, holding it low, next to his leg. "And sometimes it's for a reason," Callen muttered darkly. "On three?"

Sam nodded, pulling his gun before he lifted his hand, holding three fingers up. He folded them down one by one.

Callen turned the key in the lock on three, frowning when it twisted uselessly. "Lock's broke," he murmured and turned the handle, giving the door a healthy shove at the same time. It swung inwards, striking the wall with a sharp snap. The tape broke and dropped to the floor in a tangled lump.

A wiry, black clad man bolted through the open doorway, ramming his shoulder into Callen's stomach with enough force to take them both to the ground. Callen landed on the floor flat on his back, the air knocked out of him from the impact.

The back of his head slammed into the floor hard enough to make him see pretty stars for a long second. His gun skittered off, ending up just out of reach. He reached up and grabbed a handful of t-shirt, getting a sharp elbow to his side for his efforts.

They grappled, both throwing punches, but neither of them could gain the upper hand. Callen landed a solid blow to his opponent's ribs, feeling the sting of it all the way up his arm. The other man retaliated, striking Callen in the side. It made the brown haired agent twist away, hissing in pain.

"Freeze! Federal agents!" Sam shouted, turning his gun away. There was no way to get a clean shot, and he didn't want to risk hitting his partner.

Callen grunted as the wiry man slugged him in the face, then jammed his knee into his attacker's stomach, using the momentum to flip them both over so he was on top, pinning the wiry man in place with am arm pressed across his throat.

"I got him, G," Sam said, moving so that he could point his gun at the black dressed man's head. "Move and I'll shoot you."

Biting back a groan, Callen eased to his feet. Blood dribbled down his face from a gash across his eyebrow. A fresh bruise bloomed high on his cheekbone. He licked more blood from the corner of his mouth. Already, his back had started to stiffen up, and he knew that he was going to be truly miserable by night fall.

"Turn over. Hands behind your back," Sam snarled, pulling his cuffs and securing the black clad man's wrists. He hauled their attacker none-too-gently to his feet, then cast a worried eye over Callen. "You okay?"

The blue eyed man nodded. "Just peachy," he murmured, still catching his breath. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Callen asked his attacker. "Why did you attack me?"

A nasty grin curved his lips, but he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the pale green wall across from him. His clothing was plain, simple black with no decoration. He wore heavy combat boots, tightly laced. He hadn't escaped the fight unscathed. Fresh blood dotted his chin. A bruise darkened the skin around his right eye. One arm hung awkwardly at his side, pressed firmly against his ribs.

"You recognise him?" Callen asked, flexing his hand by his side. He retrieved his gun, checking it quickly before tucking it away.

Sam studied the wiry man's face for a long second, then shook his head. "No. Do you?"

"Nope." Callen lifted his phone and snapped a quick picture. "But I have a feeling that Deeks might."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Deeks fiddled with the hospital bracelet around his wrist, watching as Kensi pulled a couple of sheets of paper from a folder. She scanned them, then glanced at his face, un-usually hesitant, and swallowed hard, brushing a bit of hair back from her face. She glanced over, eyes meeting his then darting away again.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to read the pages.

They were upside down and too far away to focus easily on. The effort made his head hurt, so he gave up, leaning back a little more and just watching her as she fussed with the information in front of her. Long experience had taught him that she would share what was bothering her in time. He had to just be patient and wait for her to open up.

He coughed, trying to ignore the soreness it ignited in his chest. The doctor had told him it would happen, but it was starting to annoy him. It hurt, a nagging pain that left him feeling short of breath.

Without a word, she nudged a bottle of iced tea closer to him and laid the papers down on the table, pressing her hands flat on top of them.

"Kensi, what is it?" he asked, a touch hoarsely and sipped from the bottle of iced tea she'd snuck into the room for him. "You're freaking me out, here. Will you just tell me?"

"The names on this list all belong to cops, Deeks." She met his eyes squarely. "The team found something in your apartment that makes them think someone inside of the LAPD was involved in this."

Emotions played across his face. She watched him frown, brows drawn together with anger and opened her mouth to speak again. He held up his hand, expression stormy as he wrestled with his emotions.

She leaned back and drained her soda, giving him time to think. "Deeks…" she said softly.

He shook his head, expression shifting from outright anger to brief sadness. "I'm thinking," he muttered, and closed his eyes, trying to force his heart to agree with his head.

It was hard. The LAPD had been his life- his family- for such a long time that thinking someone from it had betrayed him was hard. It hurt, on a deep level that he wasn't sure that he wanted to touch. _And yet, it happened before…_ he thought with a sigh, an unwelcome memory creeping into his mind.

"What's the first name?" he said tightly. "Tell me, before I talk myself out of doing this."

Kensi looked up, her thumb pressed against her lip as she studied his expression. "Clara Grewell."

"We worked together on an operation to close down a child porn ring." Deeks shook his head, eyes shadowed. "I doubt she'd want to hurt me." He reached for his bottle, sipping the tea to give himself time to think. "Last I heard, she'd moved up north and gotten married."

Kensi drew a neat line through the name and read the next. "Matt Anderson."

He idly flexed the fingers on his injured arm, letting the distant sting of pain wash through him. The doctor had insisted on drugging him with enough painkillers to take down an elephant, and they put a slightly hazy layer between him and the rest of the world.

"Hey, Kens?" he asked quietly. "You said I was drugged. What'd they give me?"

She folded herself down onto the chair next to his bed. "Heroin. They kept you sedated through the worst of the withdrawal."

His breath caught in his chest. "Bastards…" he murmured. "And like that wasn't bad enough, they cut me up, too…" Anger turned his eyes to stormy blue.

Kensi reached for him, almost letting her hand drop when he turned that angry gaze on her. She pushed past the anxiety and laid her hand on his arm for a second, feeling his body move as he let out a long, silent breath.

"What's the next name?" he asked roughly. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew that was a bad sign.

"We don't have to do this now, Deeks," she suggested softly. "Get some rest for a couple of hours and we'll come back to it."

"Yes, damn it," he snapped. "We do have to do it now. If there's some bastard out there in the LAPD capable of doing this then I can't just sleep and pretend I know nothing about it because…" He paused, pressing the side of his hand to his mouth, then continued when he had his emotions more firmly under control.

"For a long time, people told me that I was worthless… useless. You asked me once why I became a cop. I did it because it was my chance to prove that I was worth something… that I could be good at something." His voice broke a little, but he kept going, plowing through a confession he'd had no intention of ever making. "So yes, I need to do this now, because I'll be damned if there's some bastard out there working to tear down everything I used to pull myself up."

She nodded, understanding more than he'd ever know and read out the next name. "Ben Tarrance."

"We worked together in the LAPD Robbery Division. Didn't like me very much." Solid cop, though. I doubt he'd be involved."

Her cell phone chirped. She fished it out of her pocket and opened the message. "Oh. Sam and Callen found a man coming out of your apartment. They want to know if you recognise him."

She turned the phone around so he could see the screen. He took the device from her, angling it away from the lights.

"Yeah, I know him," he said flatly. "His name is Gary Williams. He might just be the man you're looking for."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

_Warm sunlight slanted through the window, falling in a warm pool on his outstretched legs. He reached for the TV remote, channel hopping until he found the cartoons. Simple, mindless entertainment. It was exactly what he needed to chase the image of a thug with a gun standing over him from his mind. _

_It was barely noon, but his stomach rumbled, despite the breakfast pancakes Sam had plied him with. The blonde haired man smiled ruefully, knowing the pancakes were just an excuse. Sam had used the time to go over the tricks and tips he'd picked up over the years for staying safe. The shooting had hammered rule number one firmly home- don't be predictable. _

_His hunger faded a little as he thought about the events that had led up to his shooting. He'd thought that he was safe, and found that belief was sadly mistaken. It wasn't one that he planned to make again. _

_The sun shifted, inching higher on his body. It hit his chest, the gentle warmth easing the lingering aches and pains. He pressed a hand over his broken rib, a chill racing through him as he thought about just how lucky he'd been. If the bullet had deflected the other way, it would have torn through his heart. The thought made him shudder._

_Deliberately, he turned his attention back to the TV, a small smile edging onto his face as he watched Bugs Bunny's antics. Ever since he'd been released from the hospital, he'd found the quiet gave him too much time to think… gave him too much time to dwell on the shooting. He kept the TV on almost constantly, letting the background noise fill his head. _

_Hunger rumbled through him again. He yawned and eased to his feet, swinging long legs off the couch and on to the floor. The smooth wood felt cold against his bare feet. He padded through to the kitchen and flipped on the coffee maker with a tiny pang of guilt. The doctor had warned him off coffee, but it was his one sin, along with the occasional bottle of beer. _

_He opened the fridge door, eyeing the assortment of wrapped dishes with fading interest. His kitchen looked like a bake sale had exploded inside of it. Two plates of chocolate chip cookies lines his work surfaces. He pulled the milk from the fridge and filled a glass, snatching up three cookies to go with it. _

_A sharp knock on the door made him pause in the hallway, snack in hand. It came again, and he decided that he really couldn't ignore it, as much as he wanted to. _

_He set the cookies down on a side table and picked up his gun from the living room. A vague feeling of worry made him pause, then duck down, ignoring the spy-hole in the top of the door in favour of one he'd installed himself, further down. Fancy physics gave him a clear view of the visitor's face. _

_He tucked the gun in the back of his sweat pants, and opened the door. "Hey, Gary," he greeted his old undercover partner. "Long time, no see. What brings you to my door?"_

_The small, wiry man smiled and clapped Deeks on the shoulder. "I heard what happened to you, and I was in the area. Thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing." _

"_Better and better every day," Deeks said, and turned away. "Hey, you want a coffee? I just put a pot on to brew."_

"_Nice place you have here," Gary smiled easily. "You must be doing well for yourself."_

_Deeks shrugged, a little stiffly. "I do alright," he muttered, and turned into the kitchen. "Still black, two sugars, right?"_

_Sudden, quick movement behind him made him turn. The nagging stiffness from his injuries made him too slow. The fridge handle pressed into his stomach as his old friend shoved him against the appliance, twisting his arm behind his back to keep him from moving. Deeks jerked as cold metal touched his wrists. _

"_Tell me where it is," Gary snarled. "And I might not shoot you with your own gun. I'll make it look like a suicide. They'll think you were just another washed up cop who couldn't hack it." _

_As if to emphasise his point, he pressed the gun barrel to the base of Deeks' skull. _

"_Tell you where what is?" Deeks managed to get out. The pressure against his back was making it hard to breathe. "Damn it, Gary. Have you lost your mind?" _

"_Let me refresh your memory, Deeks," Gary said flatly. "Four years ago. We were in deep cover inside a drugs ring. The leader told you where he stashed his cash before we busted his ass and packed him off to jail." The gun shifted, trailing lower to press against Deeks' neck. "Well, he was just knifed to death in jail, so I figure that money is ours for the taking."_

_Deeks shifted a little bit, trying to ease the pain screaming through his side. "There never was any money. It was all a ruse. He spent what he had on more product… most of it went up his damn nose."_

"_Uh-huh." Gary scolded. "I don't believe you… strange, when you're living in a nice place like this, isn't it?" He tightened his fingers on Deeks arm. "See, me and my wife, we have a little house that'll never be ours. That money would come in real handy right about now." _

_Cold fear wound through Deeks as he listened to his old friend's voice. The wiry man was fearless and utterly ruthless, ideal on an undercover mission, but damn scary when he was standing at your back with a loaded gun. Pain painted red lace around Deeks' vision. It would drag him under._

Gotta do something now, before it's too late,_ he thought. The blonde haired man set his feet against the floor and shoved backwards with all of his flagging strength, driving his head into his old friend's face. It sent them staggering backwards a step. _

_Gary twisted, using the motion to sweep Deeks' legs out from under him. Deeks landed in a pained heap, arms twisted cruely behind his back. "You're going to pay for that, you bastard," Gary snarled and pointed the gun at Deeks' head. He pulled a capped syringe out of his pocket and leaned over Deeks, pressing him against the floor with a knee in the spine. "I have something that'll make you talk."_

_Deeks thrashed like a hooked fish, fighting to keep that needle out of his skin. It didn't work. The needle pierced his skin, sending a rush of warmth through him. The last thing he heard before blessed darkness swallowed him was his old friend's maniacal laughter. _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Sam and Callen watched their suspect on the big screen in the Boatshed. The wiry man was leaning back on the chair, both feet propped on the scarred table. He ran his gaze around the room, then deliberately turned his head and spat on the floor. An untouched ice pack lay on the table in front of him, next to his cuffed wrists. It had melted a little, spreading water onto the pine surface.

"Nice," Callen said, with a shake of his head. "That is one classy dude."

"He looks real worried, doesn't he?" Sam muttered.

Pens, folders and sheets of printed paper lay scattered on the large desk in front of them, but neither of them seemed to notice the mess. They both had their attention fixed on the screen. Callen idly rolled a pen between his fingers, fiddling with it just to keep his hands busy. The other hand was holding a large, blue ice pack to the side of his face. He was hoping that the cold would stop his eye from going too black.

"Smug bastard knows we have nothing to link him to Deeks' attack," Callen said. "We know that there was a cop there, but we can't prove that it was him. Unless he talks, we have nothing to hold him on."

"He attacked you," Sam muttered, peering anxiously at his partner. "How's the head?"

Callen pulled the ice pack from his cheek and turned his head towards his partner. "How's it look?"

"Like you went ten rounds with a two-by-four."

Callen grunted and pressed the ice pack on his bruises again. "Feels like it. Bastard packs one hell of a punch. You know what he'll say though."

"That he was there for some perfectly innocent reason, just minding his own business when we showed up and scared him, making him run and accidentally knock you over?" Sam said, voice heavy with scorn, and shook his head. "Yeah, I know."

Sam stood and crossed to the side table that held hot water, tea and coffee. He dropped a teabag into a cup of hot water for Callen and poured himself a cup of strong coffee, dumping a couple of sugars into both cups for good measure.

"How do you want to play this?" he asked as he brought both cups back to the table.

Callen nodded his thanks and picked his cup up, taking a mouthful and rolling it around his mouth. "I think we need to find out some more information about our friend before we can do anything," Callen said and pulled out his phone, hitting a speed dial button with his thumb. "Eric. Do we have any more info on Gary Williams yet?"

Eric sighed down the line. "Yup. But I don't think you're going to like it." His keyboard rattles in the background as he brought up the information.

Callen turned his phone to speaker and laid it on the table. "Go on, Eric."

"I'm sending you the full file, but here are the juicy parts. Williams served two tours as a marine, then had a medical discharge due to a shrapnel would he sustained. He worked in private security for a year before singing up with the LAPD, where he advanced quickly, becoming an undercover after three years." He paused. "Um, he worked with Deeks a couple of times. The last operation almost went bad because Williams got pressed too hard. Both of them were injured, but the operation was a success. The man they arrested was stabbed to death in jail a short while ago. I checked Williams' financials, too. He started having money trouble about a year ago. Looks like someone in his house has a pretty serious gambling addiction."

"Any more information on that investigation that went bad?" Sam asked, "Seems like too much of a coincidence for that not to be involved, especially with a big player dying recently."

"No. LAPD are stonewalling." Eric paused. "I'll keep trying though, and I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Thanks, Eric," Callen said and ended the call. "We need to talk to Deeks."

Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the screen. "You go. I'm going to stay here and have another chat with this joker."

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Hanna," Hetty said as she walked towards the table. "LAPD have requested that I hand our suspect over to them, and given the evidence we have against him, I can't put them off." She poured herself a cup of hot water and added a silver tea ball, swirling it a little to let the tea leaves brew. "They're sending an officer over to collect him."

Callen sighed, and shook his head. "This was our best chance to get him to talk." He rubbed the back of his neck, frustration giving him a headache. "Before he had a chance to lawyer-up."

Hetty stirred her tea, laying the spoon down on a saucer. "Then I suggest that you find another way, Mr. Callen, because this lead is dead in the water for now. Given their shared history, talking to Mr. Deeks would be a good start. Perhaps he can shed some light on our brawler in there."

Callen drained the last of his tea and stood, reaching for his car keys. Sam plucked them neatly out of his hand.

"Hey!" he protested, reaching for them back.

Sam shook his head and held the keys out of reach. "You just had your brains scrambled. I'll drive."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"Hey, guys," Deeks said quietly, and stifled another coughing fit. They scared him, leaving him breathless and spent for long minutes at a time. The urge to cough peaked, then eased off, letting him settle back against the pillows in relief.

"Deeks," Callen said with a nod. "How do you feel?" He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt.

_He looks like he's going goth,_ Deeks thought wryly. The blonde man waved his good hand. "Been better," he said, keeping his voice low in deference to the woman sleeping on the bed next to him.

Callen smiled. "Let me guess, Hetty's influence?"

Deeks shook his head, swallowing a spoonful of lime jello. "Nope. My doctor threatened to tie her down to a bed and sedate her if she didn't get some rest." He paused reflectively. "You missed quite a showdown. I thought Kensi was going to flip."

Sam chuckled. "I bet."

Deeks' eyes tracked to Callen's face. The blonde haired man winced. "That looks painful," he muttered. "I'd ask if you pissed Kensi off, but she's been here all day."

"I heard that," Kensi protested drowsily. "I only hit Callen once, and he deserved it."

She pushed herself up right on the bed, brushing her hair back from her face. She'd found a clean shirt from somewhere and had changed into it. The blue sweatshirt was folded neatly on the chair.

Deeks caught a splash of colour on her jeans and realised for the first time that it was his blood, dried into the fabric. The sight sent a chill through him. He swallowed hard, fighting to tear his gaze away from the smears.

"What'd he do?" he asked, willing to be distracted from the serious conversation he could sense looming. "Was there Ho-Ho's involved?"

"Borrowed her brand new car without asking, and wrecked it," Sam supplied, with a chuckle. "Sweet little red convertible."

Callen scowled. "We were undercover. I needed transport. It's not my fault that the suspect decided to ram me," he protested. "Anyway, Hetty gave her a replacement."

"I hadn't even driven it," Kensi said mournfully, then turned back to business. "Now we've ascertained that I didn't hit you, who did?"

"This guy." Callen pulled out his phone and found the picture he wanted, holding it up so that everyone could see the screen. "We went back to Deeks' apartment, and he came bolting out."

"Knocked Callen ass over teakettle, and started wailing on him," Sam added. "You recognise him, Deeks?"

Deeks nodded. "Yeah. Gary Williams. Son of a bitch almost got me shot on the last undercover we worked together. LAPD kicked him back to desk duty after that."

"Were you friendly with him?" Kensi asked, swinging her legs a little. "Sounds like there was bad blood between you two."

Deeks blinked, a memory flashing through his mind.

_The scent of old engine oil mingled with dust, rising in the air to clog his throat, choking him. The gun dug a little deeper into his ribs as he talked wildly, trying to convince the thug behind him that they'd stumbled into the warehouse by accident. Trying hard to undo the damage his partner had done by charging into the building blindly, without proper intel or back up. _

The memory faded. He shook his head, trying to clear his nose of the phantom scent of old oil and dust. "Not so much." He shrugged and regretted it, wincing. "Though he did stop by my apartment about a month after that to apologize. Said he'd been too keen." He stopped talking, letting his gaze drop to the blankets covering his legs.

"But?" Kensi prompted gently.

He didn't look up. "Why does there have to be a but?"

She exchanged a worried glance with Callen. "It just feels like there's a but."

"Being too keen wasn't his problem," Deeks said, and sighed. He stifled a yawn, jarring his injured arm as he shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. Everything ached, and as much as he wanted to take another dose of painkillers, he knew that they would knock him out. He shifted again, biting back a pained groan.

Kensi leaned towards him. He tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting. "I'm okay. Just really, really stiff," he muttered. "No, Williams' problem was that he didn't feel anything- no sense of fear, no worry… nothing. Man has a mind like a computer, but I always got the sense that he didn't understand caution."

"Why do you think he came after you four years?" Sam asked. The dark skinned man was leaning against the wall, arms loosely crossed over his chest. "After all this time, why now?"

Deeks squashed the pillow under his arm, thinking. "The ring leader we took down was rumoured to have a fortune stashed somewhere. Williams must have thought that…" He stopped talking as another memory hit him.

_The clean white sheet on his bed pressed against his face, the scent of Downy detergent almost drowning out the rancid, desperate scent of the man standing behind him. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt large and thick in his mouth. The words came out slurred, unintelligible. He tried again, teeth catching his lip as he forced the words out. "What do you want?" _

_The wiry man behind him laughed and let his weight fall on Deeks' back, his weight forcing the air out of the other man's lungs. "Tell me where you hid the money."_

_Something cracked, an explosion of pain roaring though the blonde man. Deeks watched the world turn to red and black lace, wondering if this was what it felt like to die._

A warm hand on his arm jerked him back to the hospital room. He flinched away, the quick movement sending pain tearing through him. Cold sweat dotted his skin.

"Deeks?" Kensi snapped, one hand hovering over the call button. Her partner had hold of the other one in a vice grip that felt like it would leave bruises.

Her partner was chalk pale, eyes wide and dark. They slowly tracked to Kensi's face.

"Bits and pieces keep coming back," Deeks said tonelessly. "Williams thinks that I took the money from the drug ring and hid it somewhere. He sounded desperate for it. I wouldn't put it past him to try again, if he thinks he can get away with it."

Callen shook his head. "He can't. The LAPD are holding him for assaulting a federal agent."

Deeks smiled mirthlessly. "Don't hold your breath. I wouldn't put anything past that man." A hint of colour came back to his cheeks. "You couldn't hold him because you have no evidence linking him directly to my crime scene, right?"

Sam nodded. "LAPD kicked up a fuss and made Hetty release him to them. We couldn't argue because there's no direct link."

"No, Deeks," Kensi shook her head, already knowing where her partner's thoughts were going. "It's a really bad idea."

"I want the bastard caught and punished," Deeks said stubbornly.

Callen leaned closer to the bed, bruises standing out in the artificial light. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

Deeks pushed himself higher in the bed and met the other agent's eyes. "Use me as bait."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

A moment of shocked silence filled the room before Callen shook his head, agreeing with Kensi. "No. We'll find another way, Deeks. It's too risky right now." He paused. "We need you back on the team. Someone has to keep the cookie monster here in line."

Kensi glared at the gentle tease, but didn't speak. Her mind was whirling. _You're not strong enough, _she thought. The words came to her lips, but she bit them back, knowing that her stubborn partner would only see them as a dare. _You're not strong enough, damn it, but you have enough guts for two men. You'd do this regardless of if it's a good idea. _

"Damn it, this might be our only chance. We have to do it. I'll be okay," Deeks snapped, but there was an edge of sheer exhaustion in his voice that made him less that convincing.

He sucked in a sharp breath to continue, regretting it bare seconds later when the dry air triggered a coughing fit that left him pale and shaking as his heart tried to thunder its way out of his ribcage.

Kensi pushed a cup of water into his hand, watching anxiously while he sipped it, trying to ease the soreness in his throat. The cool liquid helped. He nodded his thanks, aware that the other three agents were watching him carefully, as if he would fall apart at any second. He hated that feeling, so he straightened his spine, squaring his shoulder as much as he could.

"I'm okay," he rasped and set the cup down, the water hitting his empty stomach making him feel a little queasy. "The doc says it's a good thing. Means my lungs are improving."

"You can't work an operation like this," Callen said flatly. "What happens if he attacks you? You'd never be able to defend yourself in time."

"That's why I'd have back up." Deeks shook his head. "Anyway, I didn't do too badly not so long ago," he said pointedly.

Kensi stared at him, the image of him standing, gun raised even as blood soaked through his bandages, flashing through her mind.

"No, you didn't," she agreed softly. "But Callen is right. This is different."

A light knock on the door halted the argument before it could start again. Deeks' doctor walks in to the room, a clipboard in her hands. "Good evening, folks. I hate to interrupt, but we need to take Mr. Adams here down for another series of chest x-rays." Her smile faltered, sensing the tension in the room. "Don't worry, they're perfectly routine in cases like this. They give us a good idea of how the bruising is healing."

"Hey, doc," Deeks said slowly, fatigue making him bite off the words. "When di you think I'll be able to get out of here?"

She shook her head. "A week, maybe less if you rest and heal. It doesn't pay to take chances with blood loss and lung injuries like yours. Why?"

"What if I signed out against medical advice?" he pressed, ignoring the way Kensi's spine straightened with anger next to him.

The doctor pursed her lips, frowning. "I would strongly advise against it, Mr. Adams." She shrugged. "Why the rush? Is there somewhere that you have to be? Because whatever it is, isn't worth your life. You'd be risking blood clots, permanent lung damage… maybe even a stroke if you have a clot and it goes to your brain while you're moving about."

"What if it is worth my life?" he asked softly, dangerously.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't stop you if you're bound and determined to do this.

"Doc, can you give us a minute?" Callen interjected softly.

She picked up her clipboard and headed out of the door. "See if you can talk some sense into your friend while I go and chase up my techs, will you?"

The door snicked closed behind her, leaving the room in a soft, strained silence.

"Would you mind telling me why you've suddenly gone all lone-wolf on us?" Kensi snapped. Her eyes were alive with anger.

He glanced at her. "There are things that were left out of the file. Things that make leaving Williams running around like a madman dangerous," he said, then paused, taking a drink of water, hoping no-one noticed the way his hand trembled around the glass. He knew that he was reaching the limits of his endurance.

"Come on, Deeks. Level with us," Sam rumbled. "You put the whole team in danger if you do this. We deserve to at least know the full story."

"Yeah, you do. LAPD should have told you." The blonde man nodded. "The drug lord had a daughter, Anna. She was sixteen at the time of the bust. Williams was obsessed with her- he thought that she was our best way to her father. His handler disagreed and warned him off, but now and again, we'd see her, and I'd catch him looking at her like she was... disposable. Like something he wanted to use up and then throw out."

The three agents exchanged shocked glances, minds working overtime as they processed the information.

"Why didn't Williams go after Anna first?" Kensi asked and ran worried eyes over her partner. The set of his shoulders told her that he was exhausted, and hurting. Dark circles ringed his eyes.

"He didn't know where to find her." Deeks absently rubbed his chest, wishing that the nagging soreness would go away. "We put her into foster care, but she ran away. No-one has heard from her since.

Footsteps approached in the hallway. Deeks glanced at the door, knowing that he didn't have time to tell them the rest of it. He caught hold of Callen's arm. "We have to stop him. If he finds her, he'll kill her and make what he did to me look like a paper cut."


	18. Chapter 18

Author's note-

Thank you for the fantastic feedback. :) It's lovely to read and makes me very happy. I decided to bump this from a M rating to a strong T. It won't change the way I finish the story though.

Sorry I only posted one chapter yesterday- I ended up spending most of the day in bed with a killer migraine. I'll try to make up for that today.

If you're lurking and haven't posted a review, then I'd love to hear what you think of the story- good or bad. :)

Lou

Chapter Eighteen

Kensi walked along the hallway, one hand resting lightly on the handle of her gun. Her head told her that the long, narrow space was safe, but her gut was screaming that she was in danger. Her hands flexed, body tense as she wished for something physical, that she could _fight _to take the edge of the adrenaline_._ _Well, the last time I walked along this hallway, I found my partner bleeding to death in his bed. Guess I'm entitled to be a little jumpy. _

Deeks was sleeping, and his doctor had ordered her home to rest. Kensi had tried to argue, but Callen and Sam had backed the doctor up, assuring her that one of them would stay with the blonde man. She'd had every intention of going home and crashing out in bed for a few hours, but her feet had brought her back to where everything had started- Deeks' apartment.

The hallway was quiet and peaceful. Kensi felt anything but. They were all on edge, waiting for Eric to work his magic and find Anna. Until then, none of them could do a thing apart from wait and worry. Hetty had made discreet inquiries, finding out that Williams had already been released. _Just like Deeks predicted._

She pulled the new set of keys out of her pocket, a chill going through her as she remembered what had happened last time. _Pull yourself together. Deeks is safe. You're acting like a jumpy rookie,_ she told herself sternly. The words helped, bringing a wry smile to her lips that soothed her nerves.

The lock turned smoothly under her hand. She ducked under the crime scene tape and stepped inside of the apartment, flipping the lights on so that she could look around. Only two bulbs in the light fixture had survived the ransacking. They threw un-even light over the room.

If anything, the apartment looked worse than she remembered it. She'd been too focused on Deeks to really take in the carnage before, and it hit her like a punch in the gut now as she looked around. The air left her lungs in a rush as she took in the shattered furniture and destroyed books. She knelt and gathered together the pages of his copy of _The Call of the Wild, _stacking them in a neat pile.

Sudden, stinging tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them away, pretending that they were from the exhaustion that was making her body ache so much.

A noise behind her brought her out of her crouch, hand reaching for her gun before she'd even finished standing up.

Savage anger twisted in her gut as she stared at the man standing just inside of the doorway.

"Williams," she said flatly, and took her hand away from the gun. _Shooting's too good for him,_ she thought.

He tilted his head in a strangely mechanical movement. "So… are you his partner, or his bed mate?" Glass crunched under his foot as he stepped into the room, clearly expecting her to move away from him. "Eh, maybe you're both." He laughed. "It's not like he hasn't done that before."

"Don't," she warned flatly, and the rage in her eyes should have stopped him cold. "You lost any right to talk about him when you tortured him, you bastard."

He stooped and picked up a broken photo frame. "My, my… we're mighty protective of Detective Deeks, aren't we?" he said in a sing song tone. "You must be in love with him."

Kensi ignored the barb, shifting her feet to make sure her footing was secure. Her fingers brushed across the handle of her knife, but she didn't pull it. "Why did you do it?"

He dropped the frame. It shattered on the floor, wood splintering into unrecognisable bits. "Love," he said flatly, and shrugged. "It makes you do crazy things."

"I don't believe you even know the meaning of the word," she snarled softly, letting the rage turn her voice quiet and low and deadly.

"Then would you believe mere practicality?" He nudged something with the toe of his boot. "You see, my dear wife has a gambling problem that I can't afford to pay for any longer." He tilted his head, flicking his gaze at her as if measuring the impact of his words. "Your dearly beloved partner and a girl I can't find are the only people who know where there's a substantial amount of money stashed. I need it."

He walked towards the ripped couch and leaned against the back of it, arms dangling in front of him. "You want to shoot me, don't you?" he asked easily, and straightened, spreading his arms. "Go on. I dare you. This range, you can't miss."

"No," she said, and swallowed hard. "I don't want to shoot you." Her voice trembled with anger.

"Of course you do," he said. "You want to hurt me more than anything else in the world right now." He tilted his head again. "I know, princess. I've been there, standing on that ledge. Now, the question is, are you going to jump?"

The intensity in his voice made her take a half step back, bracing herself in case he attacked.

"No," she said simply. "I'm going to enjoy watching you rot in jail cell, you son of a bitch. We both know what happens to cops in jail and I'll make sure every con in the place knows exactly what you are." She met his eyes and smiled, coldly. "So no, I'm not going to shoot you and give you an easy way out."

He moved so quickly she barley had time to sidestep away. His fist grazed her cheek, leaving the skin burning from the stinging contact. She smiled grimly and pulled the knife from her belt, holding it reversed in her hand as she circled him.

Her boot made contact with his thigh, almost taking his legs out from under him. He scrambled backwards, crab-like and shook a finger at her. "Well, you're better than your partner, anyway."

She didn't gratify that with a response, but threw herself into an attack that left him reeling backwards, one hand clutching the new, bleeding would on his side.

The door creaked open behind them. "Hello?" a female voice called. "I don't know what you people are doing in there, but I've called the police. They're coming now."

Kensi realised that it was the old lady from the lobby, the one who had told her she was too pretty to be a detective. The second's distraction cost her.

Williams jammed an arm over her throat, slamming her backwards into the wall. She repaid the favour by smashing her knee into his groin. He dropped to the floor, a low moan falling from his lips.

"Ma'am, please stay out there!" Kensi yelled as she dropped to her knees, pining Williams to the floor as she cuffed his hands behind his back. He stayed down, still in too much pain to put up a fight.

The old lady didn't listen, wandering into the wrecked apartment. "Oh, my…" she breathed, and clapped a hand to her mouth.

A single red dot shone on her chest. Kensi's eyes widened as she desperately threw herself at the old woman. Time seemed to stand still as she crashed into the other woman, taking her to the floor just as a shot shattered the window.

The copper scent of blood filled Kensi's nose. She scrambled backwards, hands running over the body under her as she searched for a pulse, already knowing that it was no use. Blood poured from the bullet hole in her chest, directly over her heart.

"Oh, shit…" Kensi whispered, slick, hot liquid coating her hands. Dim pain shot through her side. She patted herself down, realising that she was bleeding just before something crashed into the side of her head with enough force to turn the word to darkness.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's note-

This chapter feels like a bit of a cheat-it's a little bit short. Sorry about that- I was going to join it up with the next chapter, but it works better on its own. It's quite dark, and contains so images of torture. Please don't read if it's going to upset you.

Lou

Chapter Nineteen

_He surfaced again from the fog that had clouded his thoughts. He recognised it, knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it meant that he'd been drugged. Pain ran through him sluggishly. It felt distant, and far removed from him. Some tiny part of him realised that wasn't a good sign. Panic brought his breaths hard and fast, abused ribs heaving under the thin cotton of his shirt. The fabric clung to him, glued to his skin with cold, fearful perspiration. _

_He was flat on his front, hands bound above his head. The thin twine cut into his skin. It tightened as he moved, trying to figure out if there was any slack, any way he could get free and get his gun and… and shoot the bastard who had done this to him until his blood ran red and thick on the floor. _

"_So you're awake," an amused voice drawled, far too close to his ear. "You might as well let me see your baby blues." Cold metal trailed over his spine, coming to rest against his neck. "Come on, now. Don't be shy. Your momma wasn't."_

"_What do you want?" Deeks mumbled, the words tripping and falling from him in an incoherent rush. He sucked in a breath, and tried again. "What. Do. You want?" he ground out. The blonde man tried to turn, ignoring the agony shooting through his wrists as he fought against the twine binding them to the bedposts. _

_Sudden pressure against his back wrenched a pained cry from his lips. He coughed, gasping when the weight stopped his lungs from expanding. Bright stars heralding darkness crept up on him, dancing in his eyes like fireflies. He shifted a tiny bit, lifting his body just enough to suck in a ragged, choking breath. _

_Sirens screamed past outside of the building. He blinked, wishing that they were coming to help him. He could see his cell phone, resting on the bed, just out of his reach. It was another way to torture him, he knew as he stared at the small device, wishing that he could just reach it. _

_He had no idea how long he'd been out, but the light had changed, slanting subtly from afternoon to evening. _Kensi will come soon,_ he told himself firmly, praying to the god he's not sure he believes in that she won't be late. _

_Moist lips brushed over his ear, spittle dampening his skin. "You know what I want, Marty-boy. Tell me where the money is and I'll make all of this stop. Everything will just go away, and you'll never see me again."_

_Deeks wanted to laugh at that. _Oh, yeah. I bet you will- with a bullet to the brain,_ he thought, knowing his old partner far too well. _

"_No money," he whispered. "Never was. Just a ruse." _

_The words used the last of his air. He slumped against the pillow, body jerking as he fought the growing darkness behind his eyes. His muscles felt limp and far beyond his control._

"_You'll tell me," Williams said with a laugh. "How long do you think you can keep his up?" he whispered._

_Deeks felt a tiny, triumphant smile creep onto his lips. _Long enough for my partner to get here and kill you,_ he thought. _They'll have to use tweezers to pick up the bits once she's done with you, you bastard.

_The pressure on his back eased, letting him draw in a full breath. It hurt his chest. The taste of blood filled his mouth. Nausea followed hard and fast, dewing his skin with cold sweat. _

"_Well, Marty-boy… I'm getting bored here. How about we try something different?" Williams rasped and picked up the knife. "Left or right?" he asked, grinning as fresh fear bloomed in his victim's eyes._


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Deeks woke slowly, keeping his eyes firmly closed until his pounding heart slowed to a more normal pace. It was the way he'd learned to wake up from nightmares undercover, and it had stuck with him. Screaming in the night tended to get you killed pretty damn quick.

"Hey," he rasped, reaching for the glass of water. His eyes flickered around the room, taking in everything. "Where's Kensi?"

Callen folded the newspaper in half and laid it across his lap. "I'm hurt, Deeks. You'd think I wasn't good enough for you."

The blonde man lifted an eyebrow. "You're less likely to hit me, I think."

Callen smiled a little at that. "The doc sent her home to sleep. She was about exhausted."

Morning light filtered into the room through the half closed blind. Deeks stretched carefully, pleased when the movement was less painful than he expected. "Any word on Anna?" he asked.

His stomach rumbled nosily. He took that as a good sign. It was the first time he'd felt hungry since being admitted to the hospital.

"No." Callen shook his head. "Eric's still looking. As soon as he finds anything, we'll know about it."

His cell phone rang. He answered it, skin paling. "Okay, Hetty. I'll be right there."

Goose bumps crawled across Deeks' skin as he watched the other man. There was a light in his eyes that wasn't quite panic, or worry, or fear, but some terrible, potent combination of all three things. "What's happened?" Deeks demanded.

Callen bit his lips, debating what to tell his team mate. "Hetty just got an agent-in-distress code from Kensi's phone. They tried to ring her back, but she's not answering."

The goose bumps deepened, turning into something sharper. Suddenly, the pressure of the blankets over his legs was intolerable. He flipped them back, reaching for the call button with his injured hand. It slipped from his fingers. Hr grabbed it again, ignoring the pain as he jammed his thumb on the button. "I'm coming," he growled, and it wasn't a question.

"I could order you to stay here, you know," Callen said softly. "But I know it won't do any good."

"Would anyone be able to stop you, if our positions were reversed?" Deeks asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," Callen said honestly. "No. I'd be there."

The men locked eyes, something unspoken passing between them. Callen looked away first, glancing down at his phone.

A nurse stepped into the room. "Do you need help, Mr. Adams?"

Deeks met her eyes, his own steady and cool. "No. I need you to go and get a doctor who can sign me out. I'm leaving."

She blinked, mouth opening to protest. "Mr. Adams, you should really stay…"

"I'm leaving. Nothing you can say will stop me." He lifted a hand, gentling his voice a little. "Now, please go and get a doctor."

She turned without another word and left, letting the door bang closed behind her.

Deeks swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stifling a moan. The bruises on his back and ribs had stiffened into on solid mass of pain. Standing would be hell, but it wasn't going to stop him. _It didn't last time she needed me, and it won't this time,_ he vowed. "Clothes?" he asked Callen.

The other agent crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling open the built in storage to take out a leather overnight bag. "We got it from your car." He dropped it on the bed next to Deeks.

"Thanks," Deeks said absently, yanking the zipper open one-handed. A jumbled mass of clean clothes filled the bag. He flinched a little as the scent of Downy detergent reached his nose.

Callen retrieved the other man's boots from the closet, dumping them onto the bed without a word.

They both turned as the door opened. "Mr. Adams, this is insane. You're far too weak to be gallivanting off on some wild goose chase to goodness knows where," the doctor snapped, bristling.

Deeks felt his face go cold and still. "Doctor. My name isn't Mr. Adams. That was an alias given to me by my team mates to protect me. My name is really Detective Marty Deeks. I'm with the LAPD, and my partner has been abducted by the man who did this to me." He paused to meet her eyes. "Do you really think that anything is going to stop me from leaving this hospital room, short of a bullet to the gut?"

"I… Well…" She took a step back.

Callen took pity on her. "Please, doc. Just get the paperwork. We're both leaving regardless. Might as well make it official."

"I'll have a nurse un-hook you from everything," the doctor said flatly, and crossed to the other side of the room, sorting through Deeks' chart to find the papers she wanted.

The same nurse stepped forward to remove the IV and cardiac leads. She kept her eyes low, refusing to meet his gaze. Her hands moved deftly, peeling the sticky pads from his chest.

He winced a little as she removed the IV line, covering the bleeding hole with a small dressing.

"There, you're done," she said and gave him a tight smile. "Do you need help getting dressed?"

"No, thank you." The words crossed his lips before he thought about them, and he hoped that they were true. _Callen will never let you live it down if he had to tie your boots,_ Deeks thought, the amusement passing quickly. It left him feeling cold. _Hold on, Kensi. Just hold on. We're coming._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One

Kensi rolled onto her side as much as she could in the cramped space. Her skull ached, but it was a small, manageable pain. She was more concerned by the twine wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, binding them together behind her back. Nagging tiredness made her bones feel heavy and thick.

Dried blood glued her shirt to her side. She pressed her arm against the wound, feeling only deep soreness and not the sharp, burning pain of a gunshot would. "Must have just grazed me," she said into the darkness. "Guess that I got lucky." She winced, thinking about the old lady who Williams had killed.

Something clicked in her mind as she replayed the scene. _The bullet shattered the window. It came from outside of the apartment. The son of a bitch has a partner._

New urgency filled her with fresh energy. She felt about as much as she could. Nothing useful brushed against her fingers, only scraps of paper and bits of wood. She picked a splinter up, experimentally bending it between her hands. It broke in half and she let it drop again, disappointment humming through her.

Exhaust fumes seeped into the trunk, strong enough to make her feel light-headed. She ignored the feeling, bringing her knees as far up to her chest as she could. Working carefully, she slid her arms down, grunting a little from the effort as she struggled to get her hands in front of herself.

Her thumb caught on the side of her boot. She braced herself, then yanked as hard as she could, crying out as something in her hand cracked. Another yank, and her arms were in front of her, burning like she'd just lifted too much weight in the gym.

The car rattled nosily as it bumped over a rough patch in the road. She slid a little as it turned and sped up again.

_Felt like railway tracks,_ she thought absently as she lifted her hands to her mouth, biting down on the thick, rough twine. It hurt her teeth, but she kept it up, fraying the binding until she was sure it would break easily when she needed it to.

Her heart raced as the car slowed. She swallowed hard and flipped onto her back, hiding the frayed twine. Training had her muscles tensed and ready to spring the second the trunk opened.

_Damn bastard,_ she thought._ Wish that I'd shot him when I had the chance. Then at least, I'd have been able to explain to Deeks why I practice shooting people in the groin._

Her partner's name brought a rush of emotion to her chest. She swallowed hard, banishing it until later, when she had time and space to deal with the feelings. They faded to a dull ache right under her breastbone.

Gravel pinged against the bottom of the car as it coasted to a halt. She felt the car shift as he got out, slamming the door behind him. The trunk lid opened bare seconds later, flooding the small space with dim, yellow light. He loomed over her, backlit by the street lamp. Her gun stuck out of the front waistband of his jeans.

She squinted at him. "Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.

He leaned in and grabbed her arm, hauling her upright. She went with the motion, using his own momentum against him as she slammed her head forward, aiming for his nose. Her forehead crashed into his face with a solid thud that left a few stars swirling in her eyes. She pushed past them, pulling her arms apart. The twine snapped and released her hands. She brought them up, reaching for her gun.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle just before he shoved her away, breaking her grip with painful force. Her boot caught him hard in the shin. It tore a grunt from his lips. She rolled away from him, freezing when the cold barrel of a handgun pressed against the back of her skull.

"Hands where I can see them, Ms. Blye," a female voice said from behind her. "Oh, don't worry. We know all about you NCIS agents. Detective Deeks has been feeding us information for weeks now."

"He'd never do that," Kensi stated, voice filled with sure certainty. "I know him. He's too good a cop to compromise an operation like that."

Gravel crunched as the person behind her shifted. "You can stand up now. My partner here is going to cuff you. Don't try anything stupid. I'd hate to have to shoot you."

Kensi eased to her feet, muscles locked on the urge to move as Williams fastened metal cuffs around her wrists. They felt cold and heavy.

"Now what?" she asked, looking directly at Williams. A black eye was already forming, and she smiled a little in grim satisfaction. "What comes next in your grand plan?"

He ignored her taunt and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards an empty house. "Well, I was going to go with plan B- shoot you in the head, but my partner wants me to go for plan A."

She let her eyes roam, taking in every detail that she could, searching for anything that she could use later to help herself. There was nothing promising in sight. A few rusty cars dotted the large, weedy spot. Assorted tires and car doors formed a make-shift fence. The street beyond it was run down and unremarkable, with nothing to distinguish it from the many others like it.

Oppressive heat hit her as soon as they stepped inside of the building. She let herself be guided down onto a hard wooden chair, looking around with trepidation. "What's plan A?" she asked quietly.

He pulled out her cell phone and a sharp knife. "Torture you until you tell me where you partner is." He threw the phone onto her lap. "But first, you're going to phone your boss and tell her not to bother sending agents after you." He ran the blade down her neck. "I want the money and Deeks within an hour, or I'll kill you."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two

The words blurred in front of his eyes. It didn't matter, because he knew them off by heart anyway. _I did write the damn thing, after all._ He leaned back, lifting his good hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the headache that seemed to have settled into his skull for good.

Callen set a cup of coffee on the table in front of the blonde haired man and dropped into his own seat, letting his eyes run over his team mate in barely hidden concern.

The other man looked ragged, leaning hard on the end of his endurance. Dark circles ringed his eyes in his otherwise pale skin. He blinked hard every few seconds. Tension played through the muscles in his arms, making them jump and twitch, as he drummed his fingers on the hardwood table.

Deeks picked up the coffee, biting back a bone deep flash of irritation. He swallowed a mouthful of the steaming liquid and met Callen's eyes squarely.

"I'm fine," he said evenly. "Worry about finding Kensi and the girl."

"No, you are not fine," Hetty said as she walked around the corner. "You're worried and exhausted and more than likely in some pain," she added, frowning at him. "You should still be in the hospital."

He swallowed hard and met her gaze, a soft, silent plea in his eyes. "It won't affect the job," he promised.

"I know that, Mr. Deeks." Hetty shook her head. "If I thought it would affect the job, you wouldn't be here."

Some nameless tension drained from him when he realised that she wasn't going to send him away, wasn't going to make him stand on the sidelines while the rest of the team rushed into fix the mistake he'd allowed to happen. _I should have killed Williams when I had the chance,_ he thought, stomach twisting with self disgust and shame. _We were partners once and he betrayed me. I was stupid to think he'd never do it again._

"Any word on Anna?" Deeks asked, tearing his mind away from his wandering thoughts, and tapped the file. "I've been going through the reports from that operation, trying to figure out where she might have gone. I've found a few leads, but none of them look very promising."

"Eric scanned her photograph. He's running it through facial recognition now. If she's in a federal database, we'll find her," Hetty said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and brief the Director."

Callen waited until she was safely at her desk before he spoke. "You think Williams has already found the girl, don't you?" he asked Deeks.

Deeks bit the side of his thumb, thinking. "She's a much softer target that I am. Much more likely to talk under pressure… I think that he went looking for her. I just can't decide if he found her," he said honestly.

"Are you sure that there was no money?" Callen asked, sipping his coffee.

He glanced around for Hetty, then swung his feet onto the desk when he realised that the coast was clear. The chair squeaked in protest as he leaned back, stretching his spine out after long hours of sitting still.

"Yeah. LAPD looked into it thoroughly. Took them months to chase down every lead. They never found any trace of it." Deeks lifted one shoulder in a tired shrug. "I don't believe that there was ever any money. The bastard liked the drugs too much himself to run a decent business."

Deeks set his cup back on the table, pushing it away with one fingertip. He'd reached the point where the caffeine just wasn't helping, and the bitter drink was making his stomach roll.

His cell phone rang. He looked up sharply, heart pounding with fresh adrenaline. "It's Kensi," he said, thumb hovering over the button to accept the call. It almost hurt to believe that his partner was okay, that she was unharmed, but the thought was all that was keeping him going.

_You'll get me back._ Her words from another time, another dire situation echoed in his mind. _I will. I promise,_ he vowed softly, and tapped the button. "Kensi?"

"Answer it," Callen said, and yanked his own cell phone from his pocket. "Eric, I need a trace on Kensi's cell right now. She's on the line with Deeks."

Keys rattled in the background as the tech typed something. "Got it. Starting it now."

"Kensi, are you there?" Deeks held his breath, waiting for an answer to his softly spoken question. "Are you alright?"

Static crackled down the line. "Hey, partner," she said, "Williams wants me to set up a meet with you. He wants the money and you here within an hour or…" she paused, and he heard her suck in a shaky breath. "Or he's going to kill me."

"Don't worry, Kensi," he said grimly. "I'll be there. I just need an address."

She told him, giving him an address that sent a chill through his veins.

"I know it," he said hollowly, the echoes of old, used engine oil and cloying dusk trickling though his mind, followed as always by the barely-there sting of a razor sharp blade as it scraped over his skin, leaving welling blood in thin, snaking lines. "Don't worry, Kensi. I won't let him hurt you."

She made a sound of protest as the phone was ripped from her hands.

"Very touching, Detective Deeks," Williams drawled. "How exactly do you plan of stopping me from doing whatever I want to your dear, sweet partner?"

Rage almost stole his voice. He shoved it away, cramming it into a box in the back of his mind. "If you hurt her, I swear to God, you'll never see so much as a cent of the money." He didn't threaten, because he didn't need to. The threat was implicit in his voice, soft and heavy and dangerous, like a sharp blade wrapped in thick velvet. It wouldn't take much to tear the violence loose.

"You have one hour." Williams said, and his voice had turned cold, as cold as the artic on a bitter winter's day. "Be here, alone or I'll start cutting pieces off your partner." He ended the call.

Deeks stood slowly, laying his cell phone down gently on the table. "Did Eric get that?" he asked softly, waiting for Callen's nod before he turned and walked towards the armoury with swift, sure strides.

_Round two, you bastard, _he thought grimly. _Only this time, you're not going to win. _


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three

Late afternoon heat beat down on him as he slammed the car door and stalked across the gravel lot towards the darkened warehouse door. He was armed to the teeth and ready to kill. Callen and Sam were hidden somewhere behind him. He didn't look for them, just let his eyes play over the run down building in front of him.

It had changed in the years since he'd last been there- tires and car doors lined the fencing, and the windows had all been broken, turning the glass into deadly snow on the gravel.

Movement in the shadows beyond the doorway caught his eye. Heart racing, he slowed, squinting and realised that it was nothing more threatening that a scrap of fabric, flapping in the scant breeze.

Distant anger thrummed though his body, locked at bay by sheer, stubborn force of will and bone deep training. He'd pay for the detachment later, but now it was all that was keeping him moving. Stopping to think would tear that control from him, and that would let the fear lurking deep below the anger loose. It would leave him too frozen to function, so he clamped down on the fear and the anger, keeping them locked away.

"Any movement?" he muttered, knowing that the receiver sewn into his shirt would pick up the question.

"Nothing. Place looks deserted," Sam murmured back. "You sure this is the right address?"

Deeks snorted. "Oh, yeah. Believe me, what happened here isn't the sort of thing you ever forget. Kinda branded the place into my memory, you know."

The two other agents stayed quiet. They all had things that had cut them deep and left scars behind. It was just a matter of how well you could cover those scars at any given second.

"I'm going in," Deeks said, and pullet the gun from his holster. He flexed his newly bandaged arm, hissing a little as pain shot though his palm.

It passed quickly, fading into a background hum as he realised exactly what had been flapping in the door way. His blue sweatshirt hung from a hook, one arm soaked with still tacky blood.

The breath left his lungs in a rush that almost took his legs out from under him. He forced himself to straighten, locking down the fear and the worry and the anguish so that he could do his job. _Time to finish this, _he thought bitterly and stepped into the warehouse proper.

The woman fastened to the chair in the centre of the drew his eye. His partner was sitting bolt upright, eyes alive with anger as she stared at the cuffs binding her body to the chair.

"Kensi," he whispered. "Are you okay?"

It brought her head up in a rush, the anger in her eyes morphing into sheer relief. She nodded, lifting her wrists up in a mute plea.

"Deeks," she whispered back as he carefully crossed the wide open space around her. "He's in the office. There's a woman with him. They're working together."

"That's why you said partner on the call," he muttered, her seemingly out of place comment suddenly making perfect sense. "You were trying to warn us."

He crouched by the chair, fumbling with a key as he unlocked the handcuffs. She took it from him and finished releasing herself, patting his shoulder in relief. His lips quirked into a quick grin at the contact.

"Damn, I'm glad to see you," she muttered.

"Bet you'll be even more glad to see this," he said, and handed her a gun from the holster on his hip.

She took it from him, automatically checking the safety. "I'm sorry, Deeks," she muttered as they spread out, walking towards the free standing office tucked into one back corner.

He glanced at her with honest surprise in his blue eyes. "What for?"

"I went back to your apartment," she said and ducked her head, colour staining her cheeks. "He must have been waiting outside."

Light gleamed on his watch as he reached over, pressing his fingers against her hand in a light touch. "Don't worry about it."

"His partner killed your neighbour." Soft misery wound around the words. "I tried to save her."

He closed his eyes for a beat, then forced them open, chasing the rampaging emotions back into the boxes where they belonged. "Thank you."

The warehouse walls were painted white, but it had faded over the years, turned into a muddy grey that made the large space feel surprisingly small. Large oil stains marked the cracked concrete floor. The scent of old machinery hung thick and heavy in the air.

"I hate this place," Deeks said quietly as they walked. His shoulders felt stiff, locked tight with tension. The dust in the air made him squint and take shallow breaths, fighting not to cough.

"I was starting to feel like that," Kensi agreed.

They reached the office block. The glass in the windows had long been broken. It littered the floor in dangerous, noisy shards.

She pointed, outlining a basic plan with quick, efficient hand gestures. He studied the movements, then nodded, lifting the gun as he headed away to the right.

Kensi crept to the left. Her footsteps were quieter than his, less body mass coming down on each step.

He paused just beyond the door, listing intently. Low, muted voices came through the closed door. The wood muffled the words, but from the pitch, he had a feeling that he was listening to an argument.

"Ready?" Kensi mouthed, and grabbed the door handle.

"Ready." He nodded, finger slipping over the trigger of his gun.

She yanked the door open in one smooth move, lifting her gun as she stepped from behind it.

Williams looked up, mouth falling open in surprise. "Detective Deeks. You're early."

Deeks fixed his gun on his old partner's chest, keeping his aim steady even as his muscles burned. "Yeah, well. I never was one to be late."

Williams smiled. "You remember Anna, right?" he asked, reaching over to grab the woman's sleeve. She turned, eyes blazing with fury as she lifted the gun in her hands and fired.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four

Deeks threw himself backwards, slamming his shoulders into the office wall with a pained grunt. Kensi ducked away, one hand braced on the floor for balance. A smudge of dirt crossed her cheek, smearing even more when she shoved her hair back from her face.

The blonde man blew out a soft breath, stifling the coughing fit that was threatening to tear though him. Blood dotted the bandages on his arm, but he couldn't feel any pain. Adrenaline sang though his veins, chasing it away.

He twisted carefully so that he could see through the half-open door and into the office. Williams lay on his back on the floor, bleeding from a nasty bullet graze across his upper arm.

Anna stood above him, arms braced as she held the gun. It spoke again. A choked male scream followed the shot. The rusty scent of blood spread through the air, almost hidden by dust and old, worn concrete. Bright splashes of it covered the pale floor inside of the office.

"You okay?" Kensi asked, voice pitched high and urgent. Her fingers flexed around the gun in her hand.

"Yeah." He nodded. "You?"

They were flanking the open doorway, both kneeling on the cracked floor, backs pressed against the cinderblock wall. He glanced over at her, getting a tiny nod and a hint of a smile in return.

"Fine," she said. "Ready?"

He nodded and tightened his grip on the gun, forcing himself to his feet with the last of his flagging energy. She covered him as he ducked into the office, aiming his gun at the young woman standing there.

It almost broke his heart to lay his finger over the trigger, but he did it anyway, forcing the emotions back into the box in the corner of his mind. _Time enough for them later, _he thought and almost laughed. Later never came for him.

"Anna," he said softly, so he wouldn't startle her. "Give me the gun. It doesn't have to end like this. You can still walk away."

"No," she said. "It was always going to end like this." Her voice had a strange, musical quality.

Deeks stepped further into the room, circling the young woman. Williams lay on the floor, bleeding from a bullet hole to the gut. His face was cheese pale and beaded with sweat.

"Why, Anna?" Kensi asked, and even though her voice was soft, her gun was aimed squarely at the other woman. "You were working with him. You killed for him."

Anna turned, dark hair flying around her face. The gun dipped, barrel pointing towards the floor. "I didn't have a choice," she whispered. "He was blackmailing me. I tried to escape, but he just kept dragging me back. He took everything from me. I have nothing left."

Williams groaned. "Should have told me where to find the money, bitch," he ground out through gritted teeth.

She whirled back towards him, lifting the gun. "Do you really think I'd have been whoring myself out every damn night if there was any money?" she snarled, fingers turning white around the gun's handle. "Letting strangers touch me… use me… if I had any other choice?"

Deeks took a step towards her. "Anna… Put the gun down."

Kensi watched from the doorway. Her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised that the others could hear it. Her hands wanted to shake, to tremble but she kept them steady on the gun with sheer force of will.

Her partner took another step, reaching out to touch Anna on the shoulder. She jerked away.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, then softened. "What's your real name? They never told me."

He turned his head to meet Kensi's eyes, then slid the gun away, hiding it with his shirt. "Deeks," he uttered. "Marty Deeks."

"Deeks…" she repeated dreamily. "You tried to stop him, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said simply.

Anna laughed. "Shame it didn't do any good." She moved the gun, taking aim on William's head. "He had my father killed, you know. Had my son killed, too, when I refused to help him hurt you."

A lifetime of hearing bad things didn't stop the shock that ripped through him. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. _Dear God…_ he thought, appalled.

"Then let us take him into custody. He'll go to jail," Deeks said quietly, voice heavy with urgency. "He'll spend the rest of his sad, lonely life behind bars. If you shoot him, you're letting him win."

She didn't seem to hear his words. "Detective Deeks. I suggest that you step back. This could be messy."

"Deeks…" Kensi whispered.

He knew what she was asking and stepped aside, clearing her shot. Kensi lifted the gun and aimed it at Anna.

"Anna. Put the gun down or I'll shoot," Kensi said, ignoring the large part of her that wanted to just turn and walk away. _Bastard's finally getting what he deserves,_ she thought. Training and knowing that it wasn't right kept her feet rooted to the ground, arms extended in a picture-perfect shooting stance.

Deeks circled the small space. His own gun was bare in his hand, barrel pointed towards the floor. "Anna, put it down," he asked again.

"I can't," she whispered. "He came to me six weeks after my father was locked up, put a gun to my head and told me that I had to do whatever he said." Tears streamed down her face. Her aim wobbled before she sniffed and corrected it.

"What did he do to you?" Deeks asked quietly, softly. There was an edge of hard, brittle anger under his quiet words. "Anna, what did he do?" he pressed, even though he already knew.

She smiled as if her heart was breaking. "He raped me, of course," she said and pulled the trigger again.

Williams jerked as the bullet tore through his chest. Blood welled from the wound, but his chest still moved in irregular, halting breaths.

Kensi bit her lip, finger a twitch away from firing the gun. Her shoulders were a little hunched, chin tucked towards her chest, but her eyes never wavered from the young, slim girl in front of her.

"Please, Anna. Put the gun down," Deeks asked desperately. His injured hand lifted a touch, as if he was reaching for her.

She stepped away, feet trailing in the spreading pool of blood. Late afternoon light shone on her face as she turned towards the window. It made the tears on her lashes sparkle. "Goodbye," she said and lifted the gun to her temple, finger twitching on the trigger.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five

Gunfire broke the stillness. Sam and Callen exchanged grim looks then bolted for the warehouse, weapons bare in their hands. "Kensi? Deeks?" Callen called as they ran, hoping that his microphone could pick up the words over the air whipping past him.

Dead silence answered him. He tried again as they reached the warehouse door, wincing as static crackled over the connection, popping and snapping in his ear piece.

"We're clear," Kensi said. She sounded unusually subdued. "Williams is going to need an ambulance. Anna- the girl- is dead." She paused to clear her throat. "She killed herself."

"How's Deeks?" Sam asked. His footsteps clattered on the cracked concrete, stirring up dust.

"I'm not sure," Kensi answered quietly, eyes fixed on her partner.

His back was turned to her, shoulders tight and stiff under a spill of fading sunlight. It turned his hair to burnished copper and painted his skin in a million shades of gold. One arm was braced across his stomach, the other hanging by his side, gun still clasped loosely in his hand.

She walked up behind him, stopping a few feet away. "Hey, Deeks?"

"I should have stopped this," he said flatly, voice raw. "It never should have gotten this far."

The ache in his voice made her hurt for him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, and closed the distance between them, reaching out hesitantly to lay her hand on his shoulder, half expecting him to move away.

He didn't, just turned his head so that she could see his face. Bitter sadness twisted his lips. "Maybe if I'd…"

She reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips. "None of this was your fault," she said firmly. "That scumbag is the one to blame. You just got yanked along for the ride."

"Kensi?" Sam yelled from outside of the office.

"In here," she called back, and let her hand drop.

Callen cleared the doorway first, glancing around. His gaze landed on Williams, then flickered to Deeks. Sam crossed the office without a word, kneeling by the badly injured man and applying pressure to the wounds.

_Bastard deserves it, but no-one is going to say we didn't try to save his sorry ass,_ the dark skinned man thought.

"I didn't do it," the blonde haired man said. "Never fired a shot." There was bitterness mixed with something like relief in his voice. "Neither of us did."

He suddenly felt bone-weary, old beyond his years. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. It made his head hurt. All he wanted was a scalding shower, a bottle of something potent and a bed. _And the shower's optional,_ he thought.

"There's an ambulance on its way here," Sam said, nodding a little as he met Callen's eyes. "Why don't you two leave us to clear this up?" He shrugged. "Hetty will want your paperwork, but that'll keep until tomorrow. Go and get some rest."

"Deeks?" Kensi asked quietly. She shoved a bit of hair out of her face, and rubbed her sore hands on her jeans.

He almost flinched, dragging his wandering attention back from Williams' slack face.

"Yeah," he said faintly, "Good idea."

The partners walked quietly though the warehouse, getting half way out before Deeks started to speak.

"Why do you think she did it?" he asked. "I mean, I get the whole PTSD/revenge deal, but why shoot him then shoot herself? We should have been able to stop her," he rambled on, just to fill the silence, because beneath the silence was the screaming, and he so did not want to go there.

Kensi shot him a worried look. "I guess we'll never really know."

"Do you think I let her down?" he asked softly.

She kept quiet for a few steps, rolling the information she had around in her head. "No," she said finally. "You warned him off. You reported him. You moved her and gave her the chance of a fresh start." She lifted her shoulders in an exhausted shrug. "Short of shooting him, I'm not sure what else you could have done."

He sighed as they came out into the settling dusk. "Well, it feels like I should have done more."

Gravel crunched under their feet as they crossed to Callen's car and got in. Kensi fired the engine, backing carefully out of the lot. She glanced across at Deeks as she gunned the engine, heading for home.

He was slumped in the seat, head propped on his hand. The other traced a frayed tear in his jeans. His posture was so weary and pain filled that it made her hurt just to look at him.

"Sleep on it, Deeks," she said softly. "You're too raw and exhausted to think about this now. Shelve it until the morning."

He nodded, knowing that she was right. Every nerve and every emotion had been rubbed raw by this. He needed time to put a layer of protection between his emotions and the facts. Sleep and food and time alone to think would help. "Yeah, you're right," he agreed slowly. Sleep pulled at him like a waning tide. He yawned, letting it pull him down into oblivion for a little while.


	26. Chapter 26

Author's note-

I'm kinda tempted to end this story here. I think it's about the right place. Let me know what you think. ;)

I know this chapter is much lighter than the ones before it- it's a choice I made, because I don't want to end it a dark note.

Lou

Chapter Twenty Five

Kensi parked the car in a visitor space in her building's underground parking lot. The yellow florescent lights made everything look washed out and vaguely dirty. Deeks was still sleeping, and she couldn't tell if the pallor of his face came from the lights or from some new injury that he'd done to himself.

She reached over and laid her hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Deeks. Time to wake up, buddy," she said quietly, knowing better than to startle him awake.

She'd found that out the hard way not long into their partnership, ending up with both of her hands trapped in his while his dazed brain tried to catch up. It hadn't hurt her, but the knowledge of how close he'd been had scared both of them.

He blinked, frowning. "It can't be morning yet," he muttered, and closed his eyes again.

"Not morning, but unless you want to sleep in the car, you're going to have to move," Kensi said briskly, but sympathised with him.

She didn't want to move either. The hand she'd hurt getting loose throbbed. Her little finger looked bruised and swollen. She flexed it gingerly, glad when it grudgingly bent. It wasn't the only thing that hurt. The bullet graze in her side burned, and bruises she couldn't remember getting had stiffened her back and knees to the point that she really didn't want to try moving.

"Won't be the first time," he rasped, but opened his eyes, stretching carefully. "Where are we?"

"My apartment building," she said, half expecting a smart ass comment in return.

Deeks just lifted his eyebrows, tiredness etched onto his face. "Hope your couch is comfortable."

She pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door. Cold air wafted in. It made them both shiver.

"I think so," she muttered, smiling a little. "I've crashed on it a few times myself."

"Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" He slammed the door behind him and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he walked around the car. "You okay?" he asked, peering down on her.

"I should be asking you that," she groused as she swung her legs out of the car, trying to convince her stiffened muscles to loosen up. "I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes and offered her a hand. His palm was scraped, knuckles raw. "Yeah, you look really fine."

She took his hand, letting him help her out of the car. "Just stiff," she admitted grudgingly and locked the car. There was things that she wanted to say, but she held them back, knowing that it wasn't the right time. _There may never be a right time,_ she thought, then dismissed it. _Later, when we're both rested and fed, I'll make one. I need to say some things, and he needs to hear them._

They walked quietly through the garage. Kensi hit the button to call the elevator and leaned against the wall, trying to stretch her back out while she waited. "Beer and ice cream?" she offered, with a small smile.

Deeks lifted an eyebrow. "That actually sounds pretty damn good," he said and shook his head, following her into the elevator.

Unanswered questions buzzed around his mind like angry bees, but he was too tired, too stung out to think about them. He settled for simply pushing them aside, shunting them into a box and slamming the lid. There would be time for thinking later. _All I want right now is a comfortable seat, some food and a beer,_ he thought.

The elevator doors opened. Kensi fished her keys out of her pocket and walked towards her door, stopping after a few steps to look back when she realised that Deeks wasn't with her.

He paused in the elevator doorway, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train. At any other time, it would have been funny. Now, it just made her worried again.

"Deeks?" she said, walking the few steps back to him. "You coming?" she asked, and they both knew that it wasn't the real question that she wanted to voice. _Are you okay?_ The words trembled on her lips, but she held them back, giving her partner a moment to collect himself.

He shook his head and took a slow step forward. "It all looks so normal…" he murmured. "For a while there, I didn't think I'd ever…" he stopped and shook his head again. "Beer and ice cream, right?" he joked faintly, but the lines of tension still scored his face. They aged him.

She threw her usual caution to the wind and drew him into a gentle hug. His arms came up around her after a shocked second. Tension sang through his muscles, easily a little when he realised that this wasn't some kind of trick, just human contact, meant to comfort.

"You trying to distract me?" he asked slowly, voice muffled by her hair.

She smiled. "Is it working?" she asked, and thought that she felt him laugh, just a little.

He nodded. She felt the motion through his body before he stepped back, ducking his head to press a chaste kiss against her cheek. "Thank you, Kensi Marie Blye," he said, raw, honest sincerity in his voice. "I wouldn't have survived this without you."

A thousand responses touched her lips. She bit all of them back, finally settling on the simplest of them all. "You're welcome."

He touched her cheek, brushing a bit of hair away from her face. "Now, about that beer and ice cream?"

She shook the keys in her hand. "Coming right up," she said, leading him into her apartment. "Hope you don't mind chocolate fudge brownie."


	27. Chapter 27

Author's note-

Okay, I know I said that the last chapter was the end of the story, but there was a few little loose ends that were bugging me, so I decided to write one more to fix them. ;)

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it. I'm very glad that you've enjoyed reading this. I know that I had a lot of fun writing it.

I hope you enjoy this last chapter. :) If you look carefully, there's a little hint about the next story. ;)

Lou

Chapter Twenty Seven

The phone rang. Kensi pushed the blanket off her legs and reached for it, keeping an eye on her sleeping partner who was sprawled on the other end of the couch. Neither of them had felt much like moving the night before. Empty beer bottles and bowls dotted with melted ice cream littered the low coffee table.

"Hello?" she said drowsily, wincing when she saw the time. Both of them had been asleep for over ten hours.

"Kensi," Callen said. "Did I wake you?"

She nodded, then realised that he couldn't see it. "Yep. Deeks is still sleeping. What's up?"

Her nose itched. She reached up to rub it, pressing her fingers lightly against her eyes.

He hesitated. She waited him out, listening to his quiet, even breaths down the phone line. After a few long seconds, he spoke. "I thought you'd both want to know that Williams is out of surgery. He's going to make it."

"Oh," she said, biting off a surge of almost disappointment… and shame. Anger lurked under both emotions. She sighed, to drained to even try to figure out her feelings. "He doesn't deserve to live, Callen."

"I know." He unwrapped something and crunched on it. "He won't be able to hurt anyone else though. One of Anna's shots damaged his spinal cord. He's going to be paralysed from the neck down. I thought Deeks would want to know."

"Guess karma really is a bitch." She smiled, bitterly. "Thank you. I'll tell Deeks when he wakes up."

"Hetty also said that she doesn't want to see either of you for a week. She said, and I quote. 'Tell both of them to rest. I need all of my agents at top strength, and that includes Mr. Deeks.' LAPD are pushing for the paperwork, but we'll hold them off for now." He paused, then added. "We may have an undercover operation coming up. Hetty wants you and Deeks to work it."

Excitement fizzed somewhere deep in her gut. "Yeah?"

"Yup. You'll be going in as a married couple," he paused again and chuckled. "There's still time to back out."

"I'll tell Hetty you said that." She smiled. "Thanks, Callen," she said and ended the call, flopping back down on the couch with a pained grunt.

"Tell Deeks what when he wakes up?" her blonde partner asked. He was still sprawled on the couch, taking up a surprisingly small amount of room for someone of his height.

She flipped the blanket back over her legs, covering them both. Deeks' eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. It was chilly in the apartment, and he was glad of the warmth. "Come on, Kensi. Spill," he said and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"Williams is out of surgery," she started, watching his face go blank as he if he was expecting her to tell him bad news. "One of the bullets damaged his spinal cord. It means that he's going to be paralysed from the neck down." She reached over and touched his arm. "He won't be hurting anyone else in the future."

Tension he didn't know he'd been carrying leached from him, leaving him slumped back against the couch, eyes fixed on a beer bottle. "I'd say that he deserves it, but no-one deserves that," he shook his head. "Not even him."

Her stomach rumbled. "Hey, how do you feel about making ourselves presentable and grabbing something to eat?" she asked.

He jumped on the subject change eagerly. "I really don't feel like moving," he said, one eyebrow lifting. "But I do know of a fantastic pizza place that delivers."

"Do they do stuffed crust?" she asked. "And garlic bread?"

He nodded. "Yup. You have more beer in the fridge?"

"Always," she said with a smile.

She found the phone and handed it to him, wandering over to the bookshelves while he ordered. A DVD caught her eye and she reached up to tug it from the shelf, turning back towards him with a teasing smile.

He read the title and covered his eyes with one hand. "Seriously, Kensi?" he asked, a smiled edging onto his lips. "Sleepless in Seattle? I'm gonna tell Hetty that you've been torturing me."

"She'll probably thank me," Kensi said, shooting him a side long glance.

He met her eyes and smiled. She felt her own lips twitch into a grin. _I think we're going to be okay,_ she thought and settled back, contented. "Hey, Deeks?"

"Yes?" he drawled.

"Did we eat all of the ice cream?" she asked seriously.

He just laughed.

_Yup, we're really going to be alright. _

FINS


End file.
